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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548506">Darkest Hour</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochicakes/pseuds/mochicakes'>mochicakes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Crossover, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:47:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>95,321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548506</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochicakes/pseuds/mochicakes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 1997. Albus Dumbledore is dead. Hoping to protect the students, England manages to talk his way into a teaching position at Hogwarts... but having sixteen other nations follow him there is something he never planned.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>164</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Magic Comes Back</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a very <i>old</i> fic that I originally started on FF.net in 2012 (just typing that out makes me want to hyperventilate because damn) that I had big plans and a huge plot outline for, but the process of actually writing it was quite rocky and inconsistent. I revived it briefly in 2016, went on hiatus again, and now I have never been more determined to finish something in my life because I will never escape either of these fandoms ever, probably.</p><p>The first few chapters are a bit of a mess because of their age, and I may rewrite them at some point....... eventually.......... after I finish the whole fic because otherwise it will never get done lmao.</p><p>Heads-up that there'll be pretty much no shipping in this story, at least with the nations. Canon HP couples will be canon.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The atmosphere in Diagon Alley seemed darker, Arthur noted with a grimace. Normally it was crowded, noisy, and full of life. Now, the wind whistled through empty streets and rattled the bare windows of abandoned, barricaded shops. Stillness pressed down around him. Each footstep clicked loudly against the dusty road, and the sound seemed to resonate down the long, barren alley.</p><p>Arthur's gaze flickered briefly around him, and he thought he saw several pairs of eyes watching him from the dark side streets. Of course he had expected to draw attention; his beige vest, collared shirt, and neatly pressed trousers gave him a very conspicuous Muggle appearance, something that was difficult to ignore in the wizarding central of London. But still, something about the stares seemed a little... <em>off</em>.</p><p>He straightened his back and cocked his head up. He was the United bloody Kingdom, damn it; he was not going to be intimidated by a few leering eyes in the shadows.</p><p>The rusty sign of the Leaky Cauldron creaked faintly overhead as it swung in the wind. Never before had it looked so battered and worn—or maybe it was only now that Arthur noticed it, when there was nothing else to see in the gloomy vicinity. The sign used to mark a friendly, social gateway between two worlds, a sanctuary constantly bustling with dynamic chatter and quirky visitors; but now, as the brass silhouette swayed from its groaning chains, it gave him more of an ominous feeling than a welcoming one.</p><p>Frowning, Arthur pushed open the door and stepped inside.</p><p>The only shift of movement was from the bar, where Tom the landlord sat alone in the dark, musty pub. His head jerked up when Arthur entered, and he quickly scrambled to his feet as the blonde seated himself at the empty counter.</p><p>“Kirkland,” Tom said, peering at Arthur with a toothless smile. “It's been a while.”</p><p>“Too long, Tom,” Arthur sighed, returning the smile ruefully. “I must say though, coming back to this—” he gestured out the window “—wasn't quite what I expected.”</p><p>“Ah, yes.” The humour slipped from Tom's expression. “Depressing, isn't it? It's been like this for a long time... People are afraid to come out in public, with all the dark wizards prowling around day and night. It's terrible for business too. You're the first customer I've had in some time—you'd like anything, by the way?”</p><p>“I'll take a glass of mead, if you don't mind.” As Tom began rummaging through his stock, Arthur furrowed his brows and crossed his legs underneath the counter. “But that's awful, that people are too frightened to even leave their homes. Surely the Ministry should be doing something about this?”</p><p>“They should, but...” Tom glanced around as if he were afraid of being overheard, even though the rest of the pub was deserted, and then he leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, “They say You-Know-Who's behind all these changes at the Ministry. Thing is, nobody knows where he <em>is</em>. Some say he's planning something big, even bigger than taking over the government, and people are talking about leaving the country before it's too late. That's easier said than done though, I wouldn't be surprised if those Death Eaters are prowling around the borders as well.” He frowned and turned his attention back to his disordered stock of bottles. “Ah, bollocks, I think I'm out of mead. Sorry, Kirkland, but would you mind waiting here a bit? I'll go fetch some more, shan't be a minute.”</p><p>Arthur waved his assent and watched the old landlord disappear into a back room, leaving him sitting alone in the gloom. Leaning his elbow on the countertop, he turned over Tom's words in his head. From what he had heard and seen, the magical world was a complete mess. Clearly, being the only nation who kept in regular contact with wizards hadn't been enough. He didn't even know who the new Minister for Magic was, and judging by how corrupt the Ministry had become, Arthur decided it would be wisest not to reveal his true identity to him; the very last thing he needed was for that kind of information to leak its way to Voldemort. He really didn't think he was in a good position to fight the Dark Lord and his legions of supporters, especially now that Albus Dumbledore—his friend, his former colleague, and quite possibly the only man Voldemort had ever feared—was dead.</p><p>With a heavy sigh, Arthur closed his eyes and put a hand to his temple. He didn't look up even when the creak of the door signalled another person coming into the Leaky Cauldron. There was a brief rustling of a cloak, and then the new arrival sat wordlessly at the bar a few seats away from Arthur, staring steadily forward, waiting for the barman's return. Arthur threw a furtive glance sideways, and through the shadows he could see a tall, skinny figure dressed in black, with a slightly crumpled witch hat resting in her lap and her greying hair pulled back in a tight bun. From his vantage point, he could just barely make out her face... and to his immense astonishment, it was a very familiar face.</p><p>He squinted. It couldn't be...</p><p>Perhaps noticing that she was being stared at, the woman turned her head, and their eyes met. Both froze for a split second. Then Arthur said, in an oddly constricted voice, “Miss—Miss McGonagall?”</p><p>Her mouth opened and closed a few times without a sound coming out. Only when Arthur's face broke into a faint smile did she manage to recover her voice. “Professor Kirkland?”</p><p>“Oh, good, you remember me,” Arthur said with a slight chuckle.</p><p>Minerva McGonagall stared for a few seconds, and then visibly attempted to pull herself together. “It's hardly difficult to recognise you,” she said, her crisp tone regaining some of the edge that even her former teacher remembered well. “You haven't seemed to change in the slightest.”</p><p>“Neither have you,” Arthur said, standing up and walking over to give McGonagall a hug, which she warmly returned. “You're still the same sharp girl I used to teach all those years ago.”</p><p>The corners of her lips twitched upwards as they pulled apart. “I'm not sure 'girl' is the appropriate word here,” she said. “I'm afraid my age is finally beginning to catch up to me.”</p><p>“Yes, time finds its way with all of us eventually. Even with those who never appear to change,” Arthur added sagely, eliciting a peculiar look from McGonagall. He merely gave her a small, enigmatic smile. “So,” he said, sitting down next to her, “how have you been?”</p><p>If she was thrown by the sudden shift in topic, she hid it well. “I've had better days, I must admit,” she said. “This summer has been quite chaotic. Hogwarts is undergoing so many changes now that... Albus... is...”</p><p>Something in her voice broke and she muffled a cough in her hands, perhaps trying to cover up the fleeting moment of emotion. Arthur's eyes softened, and he laid his hand over hers with a slight nod. He understood. Neither of them needed to say anything more about it.</p><p>“I'm worried,” he confessed quietly after a short silence. “No doubt the Dark Lord will attempt to take over the school eventually, if not very soon. Mr Riddle had always been fond of the place.”</p><p>McGonagall made tiny, apprehensive noise at the name. With Voldemort's nigh inhuman presence casting a shadow over them, it was easy to forget that he was once a student of Hogwarts as well. “I'm afraid that time may have come already,” she said grimly. “The Ministry is now responsible for major staffing changes at Hogwarts, and from what little I've heard, it seems that we'll be having a few Death Eaters within our walls next year.” Her eyes flashed at the notion of such people prowling around the esteemed corridors of the school.</p><p>Meanwhile, Arthur's heavy brows furrowed, and for a minute he seemed deep in thought.</p><p>“Tell me, love,” he said slowly, “how many teaching positions are there left open? Perhaps... I could consider stepping in for a little while. If only to prevent somebody with far more sinister motives from entering the school.”</p><p>McGonagall looked taken aback by this suggestion. “Well, I'm not exactly authorised to make those decisions right now,” she said, frowning. “If the Ministry officially appoints me as Headmistress, I would be happy to let you come back and teach again. As it is, however... you'd have to speak with the Department of Magical Education first. But sir,” she added, “are you sure you'll be all right coming back to Hogwarts? They run background checks on everybody who enters the school now, with ridiculously extensive interrogations of those who have... questionable histories.”</p><p>“Oh, don't worry about that,” Arthur said with a wry smile, as Tom finally reappeared from the back room holding a large bottle of mead. “I daresay that will be the least of my problems.”</p>
<hr/><p>“Dude, you're going to <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“I said,” Arthur repeated with faint annoyance, “that I'll be going to teach at Hogwarts for some time, and thus will be absent from world meetings starting September. That's in two months, if you haven't been paying attention as usual.”</p><p>Alfred leaned back in his chair and whistled. “Man, that's kinda stupid,” he said, crossing his legs and folding his hands behind his head. “You just gonna get off your ass and leave like that? Arms, dude. It's like the freakin' eighteenth century all over again—not cool.”</p><p>Arthur paled slightly; he looked as though Alfred had hit him in the face. “That has nothing to do with this,” he muttered, looking down at the table and avoiding the American's eyes. “The school is in danger, and the students even more so. I want to—no, I <em>need</em> to be there to keep them safe.”</p><p>“But why do you even care?” Alfred demanded, oblivious to the uneasy looks he was getting from some of the more sensitive nations. “It's just a stupid magic school.”</p><p>“This 'stupid magic school' happens to be the finest in the world,” Arthur said irritably, his head snapping up to glare at Alfred again, “and damn if I'm going to just sit by and allow Death Eaters to run rampant all over it and destroy its honour like they're doing to my country!”</p><p>Murmurs rippled around the room at Arthur's outburst. “But how are you even going to get in?” Elizabeta asked, transparently trying to divert from the touchy issue. “You're not even human!”</p><p>“<em>England</em> may not be, but <em>Arthur Kirkland</em> certainly is,” he pointed out. “I've already gotten my official documents sorted out, and they should be enough to satisfy the authorities. About time I had them replaced anyway, since I'd be approaching forty by now and I don't look nearly the part...”</p><p>“I must beg to differ there, Angleterre,” Francis said loftily, and Arthur scowled at him.</p><p>“I have no time to argue with you, frog,” he snapped. “I've got a fucking civil war brewing and my people are being murdered left and right as we speak. Hell, innocent <em>children</em> are suffering just because some bastard and his followers don't like how they were born and are hellbent on slaughtering them all!”</p><p>Francis looked genuinely surprised by the harshness in his rival's voice, and for once he fell silent without a single petty retort. Then Feliciano piped up, looking childishly sombre, “Ve... Germany had to do something like that too, didn't he? Remember, Germany, it was that really scary guy with the moustache who told you to make all those awful camps!” Feliciano prodded the blonde nation sitting beside him, but Ludwig remained motionless, staring down at his tightly clenched fists. Many expressions around the room were beginning to change from bemusement to horrified understanding.</p><p>Dead silence fell over the meeting. The only sound was the short, steady ticking of the clock—when suddenly, America bounded up from his chair and slammed his hands on the table, making a few people jump.</p><p>“Y'know what, this looks like a job for the hero again!” he declared loudly, eager resolve blazing in his bright blue eyes. “We can't have this Mouldyshorts guy pulling off another genocide!”</p><p>“His name's <em>Vol</em>—”</p><p>“So here's what we're gonna do!” Alfred hit the table again before Arthur could finish his sentence. “The hero's gonna go to this magic school with Iggy and then kick some evil wizard ass! Leave it all to me!” Ignoring Arthur's loud, disbelieving “<em>What</em>?”, Alfred began pointing at various nations around the room: “Japan, you can come be my backup! Iggy, I'll have you as my backup too! France and China will also be my backup, and—”</p><p>“Hold it, you self-absorbed git!” Arthur cut in, pushing back his chair with such force that it almost clattered over. “This is absurd! None of you are coming to my country and invading my school—”</p><p>But then he was interrupted by Ivan, whose unsettling presence spoke louder than any nation's words ever could. “If America is bringing friends to England's magic school, then we are wanting to come as well,” he said pleasantly, glancing at Toris and Yao, both of whom looked visibly disturbed. Alfred glowered at Ivan and muttered something about “commie bastard ruining the fun” under his breath; across the table, Feliks was shooting an equally hostile glare at the Russian.</p><p>“If Liet is going, then I'll totally go too!” he said fiercely, throwing an arm around a clearly apprehensive Toris.</p><p>“Ooh, I'll come with hyung and Japan!” Yong Soo piped up with an excited flail. The two Asians in question looked less than pleased about this.</p><p>“I too would like a look at this school,” Ludwig growled stonily, lifting his head at last.</p><p>The entire table quickly broke into loud chatter as the other nations began voicing their own opinions about Alfred's proposed course of action. Friends were debating whether or not to follow, older nations were trying to dissuade younger ones, and there was talk all around about going back and checking up on their own long-forgotten magical communities, lest their own countries end up in the same ugly predicament. Arthur stood briefly stunned at how the whole meeting had spiralled out of control in less than a minute. Then he shook his head and sank back down into his seat, grinding his teeth in frustration.</p><p>“<em>Are</em> you going to allow us to help you, England-san?” Kiku asked quietly amid the chaos.</p><p>“I'd rather not,” Arthur muttered exasperatedly, “but honestly, I don't think I have much of a choice.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Aboard the Hogwarts Express</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“England's not going to be happy about this,” Matthew said nervously from his seat in the corner of the train compartment. “Most of us aren't really supposed to be here...”</p><p>Alfred, who was sitting across from him, appeared not to notice his brother. He was too busy playing with his wand and making the hamburgers he had packed swell to four times their size.</p><p>“Man, it's been so long, I forgot how wicked this magic stuff is!” he exclaimed in delight. “<em>Engorgio</em>! <em>Engorgio, Engorgio, Engor</em>—WOAH!” Everybody hastily shielded themselves as one of the hamburgers exploded in a shower of water, drenching everything from the seats to the suitcases to the three men sitting inside the compartment. Alfred blinked, the hand holding his wand frozen in the air, and then he promptly burst into laughter. “Dude, that was awesome!”</p><p>“Perhaps to you,” Francis said, looking rather miffed as he lifted a lock of dripping blonde hair and stared at it in dismay. “Ugh, and you have ruined one of my most beautiful outfits as well, Amérique stupide...”</p><p>“Aw, c'mon, don't get your panties in a twist,” Alfred said with a smirk. “I know a spell that can dry you off in a snap! Uh, lessee, what was it again—”</p><p>“Do not point that thing at me!”</p><p>“<em>Ventus</em>!”</p><p>A huge blast of hot wind erupted from Alfred's wand and sent several empty wrappers and pieces of parchment flying. Matthew's polar bear, Kumajirou, scrambled behind his owner's legs to use as a shield, while Matthew himself was hiding his face to prevent it from possibly being blown off. The wind died down after a few seconds, though none of them were much drier than they had been before. Francis shot a very reproachful glare at Alfred, who had collapsed sideways in fits of laughter.</p><p>“Aw man, you should've seen your <em>face</em>! It was flopping all over the place like a piece of rubber! Oh my god, it was hilarious, you looked so dumb, like <em>blrblrblrblrb</em>...” Alfred tried to imitate it by pinching his own cheeks and jiggling them around, but he quickly broke into uncontrollable giggles once more.</p><p>Sighing at the sheer stupidity of his brother's antics, Matthew quietly stood up and scooped his soggy polar bear in his arms. “I'm going to see if there are any towels on the train,” he mumbled as he sidled out of the compartment, though as usual both his words and his movement went unnoticed. The last thing he heard behind him before he shut the door was Francis berating Alfred in loud, colourful French, which of course Matthew understood perfectly. He winced as he heard Francis telling the American to do some very profane things that only the Frenchman's shameless mind would be able to conjure up.</p><p>Trying to purge the mental images from his brain, Matthew hurried down the corridor of the train, murmuring apologies to every person he bumped into (and even some he didn't, though he thought he did). Despite his hurried jostling through the narrow hall, only a handful of students paused to give the tall, blonde stranger a second glance. Most of them seemed to be preoccupied with their own affairs.</p><p>“Hey, did you steal my Chocolate Frog? I swear I put it right here.”</p><p>“No. What kind of pig are you taking me for?”</p><p>“Wait, the Billywig attacked your <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“Ew, Maisie, your cat is such a pervert!”</p><p>“So a banshee, a toad, and a dragon walk into a pub—”</p><p>“Dragons are too big to fit in a pub.”</p><p>“Stop interrupting me!”</p><p>To Matthew's dismay, there didn't seem to be any towels anywhere in sight, and to make matters worse, he realised that he and Kumajirou were now dripping water all over the floor of the entire hallway. Hoping to find some help, he stopped outside one compartment whose door was left ajar and peeked timidly inside.</p><p>“Um, excuse me—”</p><p>“Snape! <em>Snape</em>! Why <em>him</em> of all people?”</p><p>A redheaded girl was pacing agitatedly around the room, looking quite livid as she stomped back and forth in front of her two companions. Sitting next to the window was a stocky, round-faced boy, who was holding what looked like a lumpy potted cactus in his lap, and beside him a pale, blonde girl was reading a magazine though a pair of odd, multicoloured glasses. Instead of the excited anticipation that Matthew had expected to see from regular Hogwarts students, there was something about the three teenagers that gave the atmosphere in the room a distinct sense of foreboding.</p><p>Matthew suddenly felt like he was intruding on something he shouldn't be.</p><p>“Ginny, calm down,” the boy said, watching the pacing girl with concern. “We know Snape's a liar and a murderer. <em>We </em>know that, and the teachers do too.”</p><p>“But <em>still</em>! A Death Eater, in charge of the school! A Death Eater snooping around Dumbledore's office, with access to all of Dumbledore's things! That little...!” Ginny began spitting out words that reminded Matthew distinctly of the time he met Elizabeta, when he saw her blow her cool for the first time after he assumed she was a perfectly polite, if a little headstrong, individual.</p><p>After Ginny's outburst, she flopped down into a seat and folded her arms. “This year is going to be hell,” she muttered darkly.</p><p>“Not while Dumbledore's Army is still around,” the boy said with a fierce glint in his eyes. “They can try as hard as they want to take over the school, but you know we're not going down without a fight.”</p><p>This managed to bring a small smile to Ginny's face.</p><p>“Oh, are we starting up D.A. lessons again this year?” the blonde girl asked in an airy voice, looking at them over the top of her magazine.</p><p>“'Course,” the boy said, and then his face became slightly solemn. “Even though Harry's not at Hogwarts anymore, I know he’d want us to keep resisting. Especially now that Snape's got hold over the place. We'll use the enchanted Galleons that Hermione gave us to call the others, and we'll arrange a meeting in the Room of Requirement after we—”</p><p>He froze mid-sentence and stared straight at Matthew, finally noticing the stranger eavesdropping on their conversation from the door. Matthew stiffened as the two girls also turned their heads. Ginny stared at him with undisguised suspicion, and the blonde girl tilted her head curiously, pushing up her strange glasses so that they were perched on her forehead.</p><p>There was a very tense silence. Matthew was beginning to think he should have left when he had the chance.</p><p>“S-sorry,” he stammered at last. “I, uh—I was just looking for a towel... accident in our compartment...”</p><p>“I might have one in my trunk,” the boy said with a frown. His eyebrows had contracted when Matthew began speaking; obviously he had noticed the Canadian's accent.</p><p>Now on top of feeling invasive, Matthew was also feeling slightly alienated. Such a nice train ride this was turning out to be. “Um... may I?” he asked the boy awkwardly.</p><p>“Sure, I suppose. Let me just find it... I hope I <em>did</em> bring it,” he added sheepishly as he set down his cactus and pulled out a large, worn trunk from underneath his seat.</p><p>Matthew slid the compartment door open all the way, and there was a collective gasp from the students when they saw Kumajirou. “Eh? Oh—right.” He held up the polar bear, who stared at the strangers with placid, half-lidded eyes. “This is my pet, Kumataro... or Kumagoro... or...” Matthew paused. “Well, his name's something like that,” he mumbled, scratching his head.</p><p>“Is that a <em>polar bear</em>?” Ginny demanded.</p><p>“Um, yes... and he's not a toy either,” Matthew added, remembering how some sceptical children had harassed him about that back on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters.</p><p>“I've never heard of students with pets like that,” the boy said, looking caught between apprehension and amazement. “Who are you? I've never seen you around before.”</p><p>“I'm Matthew Williams. I'm—a representative from the government of Canada,” he blurted out quickly, reciting the carefully rehearsed excuse that they had given the Ministry's Department of Magical Education. “There are a group of representatives visiting Hogwarts from around the world, here to observe how magical schools are run in Britain.”</p><p>“You're from Canada?” the blonde girl said, intrigued. “Daddy says the plimpies there grow a thick layer of fuzz to deal with the temperatures in the winter. They tickle your feet as you swim past, he says it feels quite nice. I'd like to do that someday.”</p><p>Matthew wasn't quite sure what to say to that, so he settled for a nod and a politely bewildered smile.</p><p>“So what are you representatives going to do at Hogwarts? Are you going to be inspecting us?” Ginny asked, her eyes suddenly narrowing.</p><p>“Um... I suppose you could say that?” Matthew saw the three teenagers exchange meaningful looks, and he grew slightly worried. Did he say something wrong? Was there something about inspections that rubbed these students the wrong way? Arthur was going to be even angrier if he somehow messed things up before the term even started.</p><p>Suddenly, someone pushed into the compartment and shoved Matthew sideways into the wall. He tripped onto the seat next to Ginny, then glanced up in time to see Yao, dressed unusually in long black robes, slam the door shut with a hasty snap.</p><p>“Sorry, America,” the Chinese nation said, turning around and slumping against the door, “but between you, Russia, and Korea, I'm going with the lesser of three evils.”</p><p>“I'm Canada,” Matthew sighed automatically. Then, after a short pause, his eyes widened and he added, “We shouldn't be using those nicknames around here...”</p><p>“Nicknames? What are you—” Yao suddenly noticed the other three in the room, all of whom were listening to the exchange with interest, and understanding dawned on his face. “<em>Ah</em>. Yes, all right then... uh...”</p><p>“Matthew.”</p><p>“Matthew.” Yao nodded. He glanced again at the other three, scrutinising them curiously. “Are these new friends of yours?”</p><p>“No, we just met,” said the boy, who was still rummaging through his trunk. “Are you one of those foreign representatives too?”</p><p>“That's right, aru!” Yao beamed and puffed out his chest; his strong, proud aura was a striking contrast to Matthew's meekness. “My name is Yao Wang, from China!”</p><p>“It's very nice to meet you, Mr Wang,” the blonde girl said with an amiable smile. “I'm Luna Lovegood. These are my friends, Ginny and Neville.”</p><p>“Ah!” Neville's face suddenly lit up in triumph, and he pulled out a small, scruffy towel covered in patches where the red had faded to rosy pink. He stared at it for a moment, a faint blush creeping up to his round cheeks. “Er—sorry, Mr Williams,” he said, clearly embarrassed at being in possession of such an item. “I think Gran packed this for me...”</p><p>“It's just Matthew,” he said, gently taking the towel with a smile. “And I don't mind, as long as Kumakichi and I can get dry. Thank you.” He began rubbing down his polar bear, who made a soft growling noise and rolled over on his owner's lap.</p><p>The door banged open again. “HYUNG! I found you!”</p><p>There was a flurry of black robes and flailing limbs as a young man bounded in and practically clamped himself onto Yao. The elder nation yelped and slapped away the hands that grabbed at him. “Ko—Yong Soo, get off me!”</p><p>“Whyyy?” Yong Soo whined, ignoring how Yao was doubling over under his weight. “We look so good together in these uniforms! Uniforms originated in Korea!”</p><p>“Don't lie! And don't say we're 'together' either!”</p><p>“Your chest still belongs to me!”</p><p>“Stop touching me!”</p><p>“Hyung, you're mean!”</p><p>“Get <em>off</em>, you insolent child!”</p><p>The others just stared.</p><p>“I think it will be fun to have these people in the castle this year,” Luna commented blithely as Yao and Yong Soo argued and scuffled around the compartment, kicking up a sizeable mess of books and sweet wrappers. “I think we can make friends with them.”</p><p>Neither Neville, Ginny, nor Matthew replied; they all appeared to be speechless as they continued to watch the scene in utter bemusement. Smiling serenely, Luna slipped her odd glasses back on, then stopped and blinked. “Oh... but they all seem to attract an awful lot of Wrackspurts.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Infiltration</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was an ear-wrenching screech and the train abruptly jolted to a halt. Ivan stumbled, quickly steadying himself against the wall to stop from falling over.</p><p>Fresh chatter erupted up and down the corridor, and several confused students poked their heads out into the hall to see what was going on. Were they at Hogwarts already? No, it couldn't have been that fast. Maybe the train had broken down? But it was powered by magic. Were they being stopped by authorities? Were they being hijacked? Chaos broke out as students began to panic at the thought of being kidnapped or killed by outlaws—or worse, Death Eaters.</p><p>As Ivan sidled his way down the corridor, he didn't miss how the children would take one look at him and then make noises of fright and cower away in terror. He frowned. Was it because he looked different? Ivan glanced down at his long beige coat and heavy boots, which was perfectly normal attire in Russia but apparently far out of place here in Britain. In that case, once he returned to his compartment he would change into those black clothes they bought in Diagon Alley, the same black clothes that some of the students around him were already dressed in. And maybe if he wore the same thing as Yao, then Yao would stop avoiding him too.</p><p>Satisfied with his solution, Ivan kept walking. He periodically checked over his shoulder for any sign of Natalya, who had somehow managed to stalk him from his house, to England, to Diagon Alley, all the way to the train station, and had already expressed her intent to follow him even when they reached the school. Ivan wilted slightly; if only Katyusha could have come instead. His older sister had been too worried about the state of her country's economy to come along, but she had told him to have fun and wished him a tearful farewell through her locked door before he left.</p><p>The thought of Katyusha's voice lifted Ivan's spirits somewhat. He wondered if he could write letters to her; he wanted to tell her about all the fun things he was going to do at Hogwarts, like learning magic and dismantling the pipes and pissing off Alfred and perhaps giving that little Polish boy what he deserved for centuries.</p><p>Yes, he was very happy to be invited to Arthur's special school. This was going to be an enjoyable year.</p><p>Suddenly, there was a loud bang. Something hit Ivan sharply in the back, and with a startled yelp, he toppled over and crashed face-down into the floor. His stiff, bulky frame lay smack in the middle of the corridor, blocking it from terrified students scrambling to return to their compartments.</p><p>Footsteps thumped behind him. “Well, well, well,” a deep voice sneered, “what do we have here?”</p><p>A shoe was shoved roughly into his side, turning him over with great difficulty. Ivan found himself blinking up at a dark-hooded man who was staring down at him with a look of contempt. “You don't look like you're from ‘round these parts,” the man said. “Thought Snape woulda kicked out all the goddamn transfers this year. What year are you in, you great lump?”</p><p>“I do not understand what you are talking about,” Ivan said truthfully.</p><p>“Don't play dumb with me,” the man snarled. “Dodgy foreigners, answer the damn question!”</p><p>The only response was a blank stare. The man jabbed his heel harder into Ivan's chest, clicking his tongue in disgust. “You’re really pushing your luck here—wouldn’t do that if I were you. Think you're safe just because the Dark Lord's out of your country? Yeah, think again. If you got any secrets, you better start talking!”</p><p>“If you're looking for Harry Potter, he isn't here,” a third voice broke in loudly, and both Ivan and the man lifted their heads to see a trembling brunet standing in front of them. Toris swallowed hard. “I heard your friends ransacking the train. I know who Harry Potter is, and you won't find him here. Leave Mr Ru—Mr Braginsky alone.”</p><p>Beside him, Feliks was staring at his friend in utmost disbelief. After all he had suffered by Ivan's hands, Toris was still <em>defending</em> that psychopath?</p><p>The man glowered at Toris for a moment before kicking his way around the fallen Russian. “Feh... and I thought you foreigners were too stupid to know who Potter is. Guess his story ain't just famous in this country.” He shoved Toris into Feliks as he stalked past them, ignoring the venomous glare Feliks shot at his departing back.</p><p>“You're like, way too soft for your own good, Liet,” he said as he caught his friend.</p><p><em>Bang. Bang. Bang.</em> Screams rang out as every door down the corridor was blasted open, one by one. None of them yielded what he was looking for. An impatient scowl appeared beneath the shadow of the intruder's hood. Heavy black boots thundered down the cold floor of the train, occasionally kicking open a door to reveal frightened students hiding in the compartment—but still no Harry Potter.</p><p>“What—?”</p><p>“Out of the way!” the man snarled, pushing aside an innocent bystander who had come out to investigate the ruckus. But instead of shrinking away like the rest of the students, this one put his hands on his hips and made a very indignant noise.</p><p>“How rude, aru! Is that the way you treat your elders? Honestly, Europeans have no sense of respect at all...”</p><p>The man whirled around and narrowed his eyes. Was this pretentious brat seriously trying to tell him off? “'Scuse me?” he growled, drawing himself up to tower over his challenger, who didn't recoil but rather glared up at him without the slightest hint of fear. “No respect, you say? Now let me make this clear, you little pansy.” He leaned in offensively close to the other's face and jabbed his wand into his chest. “It ain't me who's got to give the respect around here. 'Specially not from a puny little schoolbrat like <em>you</em>.”</p><p>“Mr Wang?” The compartment door slid open. “What's going—”</p><p>Neville stopped when he saw the growing confrontation in the middle of the corridor. Yong Soo peered curiously over his shoulder, Ginny pushed her way out into the hall, while Matthew and Luna hovered wordlessly in the back. Yao brushed off their wide-eyed looks of apprehension and Ginny's battle-alert poise with an impatient wave of his hand. “I'll handle this.”</p><p>Turning back to the hooded man, Yao looked straight into his shadowed face, still refusing to back down. “You are mistaken in calling me a 'schoolbrat',” he said, his tone sharpening as he repeated the derisive name. “Take care in putting your faith in appearances. They don't always relay the truth at first glance.”</p><p>“Well lookee here, the sage has spoken.” The man's smirked and crossed his arms in mock interest. “What else you got for me? No judging books by their covers? The quill's mightier than the wand? How about some sympathetic crap about Mudblood equity? Yeah, all Mudbloods are equal, I say—they're all equally retarded.” He threw back his head and laughed at his own wit.</p><p>Ginny bristled, and her hand crept into her robe pocket. “Are you finished?” she snapped, trembling slightly as if struggling to keep her temper in check. “The one you're looking for isn't here and you'll never find him, so hurry up and get off the damn train.”</p><p>The man stopped laughing and turned his glare onto the fiery redhead. “How about <em>I</em> decide when I'm done with you lot,” he spat back. “Keep your mouth shut, girlie, or I'll have to shut it for you.”</p><p>She scowled. “You can't make me do anything.”</p><p>“Oh yeah? I reckon I can.”</p><p>Her hand whipped out. “<em>Stup</em>—”</p><p>A wand sliced through the air and a bang sounded out like a gunshot. The man's face split into a cocky grin as Ginny collapsed, her own wand knocked uselessly out of her grip.</p><p>“Hey—!”</p><p>Two more shots rang out. Both Neville and Yong Soo crumpled beside her as if punched in the stomach.</p><p>“Stupid kids,” the man said, kicking past the fallen trio blocking the doorway. Yao muffled a gasp and hurried forward, crouching beside each of them in turn to check for injuries.</p><p>“You don't listen to people very well, do you?” Luna said mildly as the hooded figure advanced on her and Matthew. “That's a shame, really. You could be doing so many better things with your time.”</p><p>“Watch who you're talking to, you stuck-up little—”</p><p>A shimmering Shield Charm erupted around her just as the man raised his wand for the third time. Startled, he looked around wildly for the source, which took him a few seconds to locate: Matthew stood unwavering in a defensive stance beside Luna, even when the man's shadowed eyes finally landed on him.</p><p>“She has a point, you know,” Matthew murmured. His wand flicked a few times in his hand and his gaze darted around the compartment. “Whoever you're looking for, they're not in here. That's testimony from three of us... isn't that enough?”</p><p>The man said nothing, only looked back and forth between the two blondes with a leery expression. Then his head swivelled around to survey the room, and his nostrils flared as if trying to sniff out some hidden stowaway in the vicinity. The strained silence was broken only by distant crashes echoing from somewhere further down the train.</p><p>Finally, he turned on his heel and skulked out of the compartment, making a point to punt Ginny in the side with his toe as he passed. The loud, clunking footsteps grew steadily fainter, mingling with the rest of the crashing noises, and soon the intruder's snarling voice roared out, “You better have something over there, Avery!”</p><p>Back in the compartment, Matthew slowly lowered his wand and exhaled the breath he had been holding. “Well... that was strange,” he said. “Why was he so sceptical? At first I thought you guys really were trying to hide a fugitive or something, but there's nobody here besides us...”</p><p>“Oh, so that's what you were doing?” Luna said, turning to him with vague curiosity. “Checking the room? I thought I felt you shaking, which was strange to me. You don't seem like the type to be afraid of something like that.”</p><p>This caught Matthew completely off-guard. “I—I don't?”</p><p>Luna leaned in closer and stared at him searchingly, making him shift in discomfort. “No,” she said with conviction. “Intimidated, maybe. But not afraid. It gets easier, I think, once you've seen things that are truly frightening. It's like seeing a Ringed Erumink after almost being eaten by a Manticore, except Death Eaters don't hide under Lorenlax leaves.”</p><p>Leaving Matthew with an air of utter bafflement, Luna glided serenely away from him and went to help the others back to their feet.</p>
<hr/><p>Arthur was there waiting when the Hogwarts Express wheezed to a stop outside the school's towering gates. Cast in shadow in the darkening twilight, he stood near the rails with his arms folded, his black cloak fluttering in the cool September breeze. Flickering torchlight dimly illuminated his furrowed brows and apprehensive frown. His eyes flickered over the compartment windows, trying to spot any regrettably familiar faces.</p><p>The doors of the train opened and swarms of students began pouring out of the train.</p><p>“Good trip?” Arthur called out to Ludwig, whose impressive height made him stick out from the sea of black despite wearing the same uniform as everybody else. Ludwig nodded stiffly at him and began pushing his way towards his host. As he approached, Arthur noticed Kiku and Feliciano sticking close behind, as if afraid they would be swallowed amidst the chaos if they strayed too far.</p><p>Wait—Feliciano? North Italy? Why was he here?</p><p>Arthur narrowed his eyes as he looked around and saw more nations whom he <em>certainly</em> did not invite. Lovino, trailing behind his northern counterpart and shooting explicit glares at Ludwig's back. Heracles, dragging himself sleepily along with the crowd, miraculously not tripping over his own feet. Yong Soo, draped over his brother's shoulders like some clingy, oversized backpack. Ivan and Natalya, who had a large gap around them as students avoided nearing the intimidating pair. Ludwig's silver-haired brother snickering taunts at Elizabeta, who looked about ready to beat him over the head. The frog, with his arm wrapped around America's shoulders for some inane reason—or, hold on, maybe it was the other one... Canada?</p><p>What the <em>hell</em> were they all doing here?</p><p>Arthur twitched and took a deep breath, trying not to lose his temper. There would be time for that later. At the moment, he had to stay professional, even though he really felt like punching somebody in the face—preferably Alfred, who was probably the one behind all of this.</p><p>“International visitors!” he shouted, drawing curious stares and murmurs from the students, as well as a few of the nations themselves. “International visitors, go with the first-years! Hagrid will escort you all to the castle!” He waved towards a huge, bearded man, even larger than Ivan, waiting by the murky lake and calling for first-years in a booming voice. “Oh, and visitors!” Arthur added testily. “Meet me in the Entrance Hall after the feast!”</p><p>“There's a feast?” Feliciano echoed, bobbing up and down in excitement. “Evviva! I hope they serve pasta! And I hope England's not cooking!”</p><p>“That would be a saving grace,” Francis agreed. “I too would like to live to see another day.”</p><p>

Arthur overheard that and threw Francis a dirty look. “Be thankful I'm not kicking your slimy arse out of my school right now,” he snapped before stalking off towards the castle with the rest of the students.</p><p>As the first-years and the nations neared the lake, Alfred was the first to spot what was waiting for them in the water.</p><p>“Dude, we get to ride <em>boats</em>?” he said, breaking ahead of the crowd to get a closer look. “That is so wicked!”</p><p>Feliks' reaction was not nearly as enthusiastic. He stared apprehensively at the small, rocking rowboats docked along the lake shore. “This is totally not safe,” he said. “What if I, like, fall out? I'll get gross wet stuff all over my clothes.”</p><p>“Yeh can come with me if yer scared,” the giant called Hagrid said, clapping a friendly hand on Feliks' shoulder and nearly knocking him into the water. “Yeh'll be jus' fine, I'll catch yeh if yeh go overboard. Now, everyone get in! No more than four to a boat!”</p><p>The first-years and the nations clambered into the rowboats, some more reluctantly than others: Feliciano instantly latched onto his grumbling brother, Ludwig took small, ginger steps in order to keep his balance, and Yao was trying desperately to avoid getting into the same boat as Yong Soo, who would probably end up capsizing it by accident. Feliks decided not to take up Hagrid's offer and instead joined Toris, Elizabeta, and Gilbert, the latter of whom elicited an immensely annoyed twitch from the Hungarian.</p><p>When everybody was settled in, all the rowboats set sail at once, cutting smoothly through the still water towards the castle.</p><p>“Hogwarts is quite beautiful,” Kiku commented quietly, gazing up at the looming silhouette of the school set against stormy grey clouds. Huge turrets jutted up from the building to the sky, and soft pinpoints of light winked from their windows like stars. The castle's reflection in the lake rippled and bent as the boats passed silently over it. Every passenger watched with rapt attention as they drew slowly nearer to the entrance; some faces were alive with anticipation, others shadowed by breathless fear.</p><p>Suddenly, several people shrieked in terror. The darkness around them came to life, swooping around the small fleet of boats like a swarm of ghastly vultures. The air was shrouded in unnatural cold as the shadows circled voraciously above their heads. Low, heavy breaths rattled the stillness around them, growing louder and louder as the dementors closed in; they had sensed fear and emotion and the promise of a sweet, sweet feast. The shivering first-years shrieked again and huddled together, their wide, petrified eyes darting around in panic as skeletal fingers began reaching towards them with malicious delight—</p><p>“China? China!”</p><p>Yao seemed deaf to the panicked scream; he had curled up into a ball, his hands clutched at his head, his nails digging into his skull as he whimpered and trembled like a helpless child. Beside him, Francis was hunched over in anguish, moaning unintelligibly, his eyes tightly shut as he shook his head in a violent rhythm. Matthew had his face buried in Kumajirou's fur, his shoulders shaking with silent grief, and one boat over, Yong Soo let out a forlorn wail and tried to claw pathetically over the side. Ivan was shivering, his hollow eyes staring blankly at some unseen horror, and even Kiku was deathly white and crumpled into an emotional wreck, hanging on the verge of passing out.</p><p>A few first-years broke into tears. They glanced wildly at Hagrid for help, but he was hiding his face in his hands, gulping back great, heaving gasps; he was just as helpless as they were.</p><p>Gritting his teeth, Alfred rubbed a hand furiously across his wet eyes and glared at the dementors. <em>Come on, America, be the big damn hero and do something about this!</em></p><p>He lifted his wand—but no words could come out of his mouth. The rattling breaths echoed in his ears like mocking laughter. Panic flooded his mind. He wracked his brain for a spell, a curse, a little jinx, <em>anything</em> that might possibly hinder their attackers, but there was nothing but blank <em>come on think America think think think</em>—</p><p>Then out of nowhere, a dementor came flying at his face and—</p><p>“<em>NOW! FIRE!”</em></p><p>The wand clattered to the floor and Alfred collapsed as deafening gunshots rang in his ears. His eyes snapped shut and suddenly he was back home again, dirty and cold, mud soaking his pants and blood smeared on his cheek—</p><p>
  <em>Muted feet pattered against the ground, stepping nimbly over crevices and rocky dunes. His numb fingers trembled around sleeted iron, and the butt of the rifle clattered like lead on his shoulder.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Four shots cracked in the air. Four distant figures fell.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A hot, sharp rush of adrenaline seared through his veins. Grim satisfaction flooded his entire being. He was killing the enemy, killing killing (killing his own people) and bringing justice to his country, to himself (murdering himself) for freedom, sweet freedom for them all, set them free, set them free, set me free, save me from myself you're ripping me apart stop it stop it no no (YES) no—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Jones!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And suddenly he had tumbled roughly to the grass and the rifle slipped from his hand. He gasped, his nails dug into the dirt, his feral blue eyes glinted with bloodlust and rebellion and hatred for the South, hatred for the North, hate hate hate they will never be free I will never let them go because they are mine THEY ARE MINE KILL KILL KILL AND SET THEM FREE SET THEM FREE PLEASE STOP IT MY HEART IS BURNING PLEASE STOP—</em>
</p><p>“<em>Expecto Patronum</em>!”</p><p>A burst of silver light flashed in front of Alfred's eyes and he woke from the memory with an abrupt start. For a moment he laid paralysed on the floor of the boat, his heart pounding violently and his face damp with sweat and tears. Then he scrambled to his feet, nearly collapsing again as his shaky legs threatened to buckle beneath him. He glanced up and his mouth fell open.</p><p>A shimmering silver cat was leaping dexterously through the air, marking a large protective circle around the fleet. The dementors immediately shrank away from its light, and those nearest to it shot away as if excruciatingly burned. The cat continued to shield the rowboats until their bottoms scraped against the opposite shore of the lake, whereupon it vanished in a wisp of silver smoke. From the shoreline, a craggy outcrop of rocks led up to a dark, grassy hillside, where the tall silhouette of a woman was standing and watching the last of the dementors retreat back into the darkness.</p><p>Silence settled over the night once more, broken only by terrified whimpers and quiet sobs.</p><p>“P-Professor McGonagall,” Hagrid spluttered breathlessly. “Th-thanks a bunch... can't do a Patronus Charm myself, see...”</p><p>“I would have expected as much, Hagrid,” McGonagall said curtly, turning her sharp gaze onto him. “Nevertheless, it is not your fault. Hogwarts has changed, and we should have known to take stricter safety precautions this year.” Her eyes strayed to the frightened first-years and the nations, many of whom had not yet recovered from their brush with the dementors. Her voice took on a much more businesslike tone. “I shall take the students and our guests from here. Hagrid, if you could please assist them in disembarking, and then fetch Madam Pomfrey. All of them will be needing remedies after such a close encounter.” She stepped forward to help Hagrid in getting the shaken passengers to their feet.</p><p>“Am I the only one getting, like... sketchy vibes from this place?” Feliks muttered, clambering out in a daze with Toris.</p><p>“You're not, Po,” Elizabeta said softly, coming up behind them, wiping her tear-stained cheeks. “Y-you know... something tells me, spending the year here isn't going to be as fun as we thought.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Start of Term Feast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur immediately knew something was wrong when his fellow nations straggled into the Great Hall in the middle of the first-years’ Sorting. All of them looked abnormally pale, and they surveyed their new surroundings with minimal commotion—even Alfred and Gilbert, from whom Arthur had expected the most disruptive reactions. As relieved as he was for the peaceful entrance, the nations’ less-than-chipper appearances worried him. He kept a wary eye on them as the last first-year to be Sorted hurried off to the Ravenclaw table, and a thin, black-haired man rose from the centre of the staff table to address the students.</p><p>“Welcome,” he said softly, although the expression on his face was anything but welcoming. His voice was barely above a murmur, but it seemed to cut through the silence and command the attention of every single person in the room. “Before we commence with the feast, a few introductions must be in order.</p><p>“In light of the previous headmaster’s death, I, Severus Snape, shall be taking over administration here at Hogwarts.” Several furtive glares were shot at him, particularly from the older students, but Snape loftily ignored them all. “Filling my former position as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher will be Professor Amycus Carrow.” A rather dumpy-looking man stood up and waved, grinning crookedly at the scattered applause he received. “His sister, Professor Alecto Carrow, will be teaching Muggle Studies, following the... regrettable resignation of Professor Charity Burbage.” The short, stocky woman beside Amycus also stood, wearing a smug smirk that suggested that there may have been more behind this alleged resignation than Snape was letting on.</p><p>“Finally...” The students’ attention shifted to the only stranger left at the staff table. “Taking over as Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Professor Arthur Kirkland.”</p><p>Arthur didn’t bother getting up from his chair. He waved briefly at the same tentative applause the students gave the Carrows, and then threw a pointed glare at Alfred, who randomly cut in with a whoop. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or annoyed that the nations’ listlessness seemed to be wearing off.</p><p>Meanwhile, from the end of the staff table, Hagrid looked on miserably.</p><p>Snape waited a few seconds for the room to fall completely silent again. “It is also my...” he twitched, “pleasure... to announce that the school will be hosting some international visitors this year. They are here to observe the reputable workings of Hogwarts, and thus shall be sorted into Houses and shadow our seventh-year classes. You are to treat them as guests.” Snape paused, his haughty gaze flickering over to the nations. “In return, they are to behave appropriately as guests.”</p><p>A crease appeared in Arthur’s forehead. Snape sat down again, which was the cue for McGonagall to conjure up a scroll of parchment, unroll it, and begin reading out names in her usual strict voice. “Arlovskaya, Natalya.”</p><p>Ivan gratefully shook off the pale-blonde Belarusian clinging to his arm. Natalya gave him a beseeching look and seemed as if she wanted to protest, but after a few tense seconds of consideration, she stalked grudgingly up to the Sorting Hat and shoved it on her head. The Hat deliberated wordlessly for a long while before its mouth ripped open and declared, “Hufflepuff!”</p><p>Arthur nearly fell out of his chair. <em>Really</em>? Ivan’s batty sister ended up in <em>Hufflepuff</em>? Maybe the Hat had gone a little loopy after all the chaos in the past year. Even the Hufflepuffs themselves looked uncertain as the intimidating girl threw off the Hat and went to join their table. She sat down, ignoring a few brave souls’ attempts at introductions, and fixed her possessive stare back on Ivan.</p><p>“Beilschmidt, Gilbert.”</p><p>Gilbert swaggered up to take centre stage with Gilbird perched faithfully on his shoulder.</p><p>“Slytherin!”</p><p>“Kesesese! Looks like you guys’ll be graced with my awesome presence this year!” he said, sauntering over to the half-heartedly applauding Slytherins.</p><p>“Beilschmidt, Ludwig.”</p><p>Ludwig marched up to the front of the hall, his expression perfectly aloof. He swept the tattered Sorting Hat onto his head and sat stiffly on the stool.</p><p>“Slytherin!”</p><p>Ludwig took off the Hat and followed his brother, who was now hooting obnoxiously. Quite a number of students looked impressed by the German’s powerfully built figure. A few Slytherin girls hastily inched over to make room for him, but Ludwig paid them no attention and sat near Gilbert instead.</p><p>“Bonnefoy, Francis.”</p><p>The Frenchman apparently felt the need to twirl and blow the crowd a kiss before being Sorted. Quiet giggles erupted around the room, particularly from the female students. Arthur felt like smacking the wanker <em>hard</em> across the face.</p><p>“Slytherin!”</p><p>“Why am I not surprised,” Arthur muttered, as “Braginsky, Ivan” was called up. The large Russian looked a bit ridiculous wearing a pointed wizard’s hat on his head, balancing himself on the tiny stool for several minutes before the Hat declared him a Slytherin as well. A look of pure relief passed over Ivan’s face. Meanwhile, Natalya looked like she was going to stab something. Many of the students around her began edging away.</p><p>“Héderváry, Elizabeta.”</p><p>“Gryffindor!”</p><p>Elizabeta skipped down to greet her new House, while Kiku walked calmly forward, took her place on the stool, and placed the Hat on with great care, as if he were afraid of ripping it even further.</p><p>“Ravenclaw!”</p><p>He set it down with equal mindfulness and went to join the Ravenclaws amid their polite applause.</p><p>“Im, Yong Soo.”</p><p>The eager Korean barrelled from the group and jammed the Hat over his messy black hair.</p><p>“Gryffindor!”</p><p>“Brave as a lion, that’s me!” Yong Soo accidentally kicked over the stool as he threw the Hat off and tore after Elizabeta. Only after some very loud scolding from Yao did he backtrack to set the stool upright again, grinning sheepishly as the rest of the students laughed. McGonagall, hardly amused by this display of idiocy from her House, waited with arched eyebrows for the commotion to die down and for Yong Soo to return to his seat.</p><p>“Jones, Alfred.”</p><p>The Hat barely touched the American’s head before it instantly bellowed “Gryffindor!” once more. Yong Soo waved Alfred excitedly over to the Gryffindor table, where he had already found Ginny and Neville and had plopped himself next to them.</p><p>“Karpusi, Heracles.”</p><p>Someone poked the spaced-out Grecian out of the knot of nations. He shifted the fluffy white cat in his arms to his shoulder, then trudged up to put on the Hat, all the while keeping a steadying hand on the cat’s back.</p><p>“Ravenclaw!”</p><p>Heracles dropped the Hat lazily back on the stool and went to join Kiku, who made room for him with a soft smile on his face. The two quietly cuddled Heracles’ cat together as “Laurinaitis, Toris” was called up.</p><p>It took a very long time for the Hat to decide on Toris’ placement. His face was rigidly set the entire time, and his lips were moving very slightly as if he were talking to himself. Finally, after nearly four minutes of silent debate, the Hat opened its mouth and shouted, “Ravenclaw!” From the Slytherin table, Ivan looked rather downcast as Toris handed the Hat over to Feliks and nervously made his way towards Heracles and Kiku.</p><p>Feliks was even more difficult. He sat there, legs crossed under his robes and arms folded impatiently, for over five minutes as the Hat mused over its decision.</p><p>“Gryffindor!”</p><p>“Sweet, I’m with Liz!” Feliks said, and he pranced his way down to sit beside Elizabeta. “But Liet is all the way over there, which is totally lame,” he added, glancing at the Ravenclaw table. Toris caught his eye and gave him an apologetic smile, while Elizabeta patted her friend’s arm sympathetically.</p><p>“Vargas, Feliciano.”</p><p>This time, the Hat didn’t take long at all. “Hufflepuff!”</p><p>The ditzy Italian peeked out from under the brim and waved proudly at Ludwig and Kiku, both of whom decided to humour him and wave back. Feliciano dashed off with the Hat still on his head, and he had to run back amid laughter to pass it on to Lovino.</p><p>“Hufflepuff!” Lovino followed his brother to the Hufflepuff table with much less enthusiasm.</p><p>“Why am I stuck with you, damn it?” he grumbled as Feliciano jumped up and clapped like an excited child, though he still hurried to claim a spot next to his northern counterpart.</p><p>“Wang, Yao.”</p><p>“Ravenclaw!”</p><p>Yao’s expression visibly relaxed. Disregarding Yong Soo’s disappointed whining from across the room, he darted down to the Ravenclaws and squished himself into a spot next to Kiku. The Japanese nation twitched in displeasure and leaned away from the contact as discreetly as possible.</p><p>“Williams, Matthew.”</p><p>The Canadian breathed out a small sigh of relief; he had been worried about being forgotten and his name not called at all. He tripped onto the stool, balanced Kumajirou in his lap—a murmur rippled throughout the room and many people craned their necks to see the little polar bear—and he fumbled with his free hand to put the Hat on.</p><p>“Hufflepuff!”</p><p>Matthew edged down to the Hufflepuff table, where much of the empty space left was around Natalya. She didn’t appear to notice him as he slipped wordlessly into a seat nearby.</p><p>With all the nations Sorted, the list of names vanished, and McGonagall picked up the Hat and moved the stool away. Snape stood up again, and the tittering students instantly hushed up once more. His black eyes swept over the crowd, meeting both fearful glances and defiant grimaces.</p><p>“Let the feast commence.”</p><p>He sat back down as food suddenly materialised on the plates in front of them, much to the astonishment of the first-years and the foreign visitors. The hungry students immediately tucked into the meal, but many of the nations were wary of touching anything that reminded them of Arthur’s cooking.</p><p>“Dude, you sure this stuff isn’t radioactive or something?” Alfred asked, leaning down to scrutinise the lamb chops at eye level.</p><p>“No,” a sandy-haired boy said, baffled, from a few seats away. “Why d’you say that?”</p><p>“Bad experiences,” Elizabeta said, poking at the roast beef with her fork like it would spontaneously explode.</p><p>“Hong’s told me lots of horror stories about England’s cooking,” Yong Soo added loudly. “They’re the kind of stories that keep you up at night!” Arthur heard that and threw him a dirty look from the staff table.</p><p>“We eat this food everyday,” said a girl with a long, black braid draped over her shoulder. “I don’t think there’s a problem with it.” Beside her, another girl with curly blonde hair nodded in agreement.</p><p>“Well, if you say so,” Alfred said, and with cheerful vigour he began piling shamelessly generous helpings of steak and gravy onto his plate.</p><p>Before long, the Great Hall was filled with chatter, interspersed by the bright clinking of goblets and cutlery. Conversation was particularly focused around the international representatives as curious students eagerly questioned them.</p><p>“Yes, we do have magic schools in our own countries,” Yao was saying to a group of wide-eyed third-years. “Have you ever heard of Guangdong Wushi Xuexiao?” He looked around to blank stares and chuckled. “I’m not surprised. Arth—England’s here is one of the most prestigious. The name is heard much more than other schools.”</p><p>“England? Hogwarts is in Scotland,” someone piped up, confused. Yao froze.</p><p>“Yes, Scotland,” Kiku said, coming to his rescue. He bowed his head humbly. “Allow me to apologise on behalf of my colleague. Coming from foreign lands, we occasionally confuse the countries of the United Kingdom.” The others appeared to accept this as a reasonable explanation, and they returned to their meals, talking excitedly amongst themselves. Kiku took the chance to give Yao a critical stare when nobody was looking.</p><p>Meanwhile, over at the Slytherin table, Francis finished a dramatic story with a flourish of his hand, and the knot of girls around him broke into giggles.</p><p>“Et alors, mes filles,” he continued, reclining in his chair and fingering his goblet like a delicate rose, “I said to him, ‘You must be distingué in your affection, mon ami.’ These are the words I live by—be gentle to the ladies and be gentle to the earth.” He winked and a few of the girls sighed, resting their cheeks in their palms. Further down the table, Ludwig was mashing up his potatoes with a little more force than necessary, trying to pretend that he didn’t associate with the coquettish Frenchman.</p><p>“Why are all the reasonable people in Ravenclaw?” he muttered, placing a hand to his temple as Gilbert began banging the table and complaining loudly about the school’s lack of beer.</p><p>A tinkling crash sounded from the Hufflepuff table, and every student within a three metre radius turned their head: Feliciano had accidentally knocked a plate off the edge with his elbow.</p><p>“You idiot, Veneziano,” Lovino said, rolling his eyes.</p><p>“Ah, scusate fratellone!” Feliciano apologised brightly, rubbing his neck with a sheepish smile. He quickly hopped off his chair to retrieve the broken pieces.</p><p>The quiet girl sitting beside him bent down, her red hair falling in a curtain over her face, and waved her wand over the mess. “<em>Reparo</em>.”</p><p>“Oh, grazie!” Feliciano said in awe as the pieces flew back together and mended themselves. The two straightened back up and the girl set the plate back on the table. “Thank you, ve!”</p><p>She gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Feliciano’s beaming expression turned to one of innocent worry when she lowered her head and continued pushing her food listlessly around her dish.</p><p>“GAHHH!” Half the Great Hall jumped when Alfred screamed and vaulted out of his chair, far away from the bewildered-looking ghost hovering near the other Gryffindor nations. As Alfred cowered behind a large roast chicken, Elizabeta turned back and cautiously addressed the ghost, whose extravagant clothing and ruffs reminded her distinctly of Europe’s medieval ages.</p><p>“Sorry about him, he can be a little overreactive.”</p><p>“He doesn’t like ghosts,” Yong Soo laughed. “Pisses his pants if you tell him a place is haunted. He plays horror games with me and Kiku sometimes, and he always loses ‘cause it’s too scary for him.”</p><p>“I see,” the ghost said, glancing back at Alfred with slight concern. A quivering tuft of the American’s blonde hair was just barely visible over the chicken. “Could you please tell your friend that I am your House ghost, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, and I mean no harm? I fear for his future at Hogwarts if he is this alarmed at every ghost that comes into his sight.”</p><p>“You mean there are more of you?” Elizabeta said, her eyes widening.</p><p>“More of us ghosts, yes,” Sir Nicholas said. “Do you see the other House ghosts there, at their respective tables? The Fat Friar, the Grey Lady, the Bloody Baron... Professor Binns is a ghost as well, he’s the History of Magic teacher...”</p><p>“Totally sucks for Alfred,” Feliks commented.</p><p>Meanwhile, the staff watched with reactions ranging from amusement to annoyance to confusion. McGonagall swept stiffly down to the Gryffindor table in order to get Alfred back in his seat, but he immediately broke into a loud fit of protest, sinking further behind his roast chicken shield. The students around them stared, whispered, and laughed, while the other nations carried on eating with an air of utter indifference towards the scene Alfred was making.</p><p>“I should have mentioned the ghosts to him before,” Arthur grumbled to himself, running a tired hand through his hair. “Maybe then the twat wouldn’t have been so keen on coming.”</p>
<hr/><p>At last, dinner was finished and the leftover puddings vanished, leaving all the dishes sparkling clean. The raucous chatter had settled into a low, sleepy hum, and the students, now full and drowsy, waited to be dismissed to bed.</p><p>Alecto Carrow stalked up to the front of the room. She flicked her wand, and deafening <em>bang</em> silenced the room.</p><p>“Listen up, kiddies,” she said, smirking at the scattered, frightened jumps throughout the crowd. “This show’s gonna run differently from now on. We're gonna have some order around here, ‘cause we ain’t a bunch of filthy Muggle animals, isn’t that right?”</p><p>Not a single noise escaped the wide-eyed students. Alecto’s grin stretched wickedly across her face. “Now get yourselves in lines by House, scat, and we don’t want no talking.”</p><p>Snape did not contradict her, but watched with an unreadable expression on his face as the students hesitantly stood up and arranged themselves into sloppy, clustered rows along the tables. Many uneasy looks were exchanged, but still there was no sound except the rustling of cloaks and scuffs of fidgeting feet against the floor.</p><p>“Feh, thought the little whelps would be more trouble than this.” Amycus’ sneering voice joined his sister’s, as the two looked over the arrays of students with unhidden disdain. “Bit of a disappointment. Well, fuck it,” he said, and a few of the younger children muffled their gasps, “we’ll have our fun with you kiddies later. Wouldn’t want to spoil everything on the first day. Piss off to bed, you lot. And you better damn well stay there, we ain’t putting up with brats wandering the corridors in the middle of the night.”</p><p>With an arrogant flourish of his wand, he directed the trembling rows of students towards the doors. Nobody dared whisper or look back as they all shuffled out of the Great Hall, broke apart, and filed away to their House dormitories. Only the nations stayed behind in the Entrance Hall, lined up against the walls to let the students through. Elizabeta caught Neville’s eye as he passed; he answered her apprehensive look with a wordless grimace.</p><p>When the teachers finally came out as well, many of them walked by with only a weary nod or a glance at their guests. Arthur was the last to emerge. He avoided his colleague’s prying eyes as he turned around, flicked his wand, and slammed the massive doors shut behind him. Feliciano let out a startled squeak.</p><p>“Mon ami,” Francis began in a pacifying sort of tone, but Arthur held up a hand to cut him off. Several people made sounds of impatience, but nobody said another word until the other teachers’ footsteps had faded into the depths of the castle. Only then, when they were no longer in danger of being overheard, did Arthur turn on them with his sharp green eyes narrowed dangerously.</p><p>“I invited four of you,” he ground out, his glare sweeping around the group and lingering particularly on Alfred. “How the hell did it turn into <em>sixteen</em>?”</p><p>For a moment, nobody responded. Then:</p><p>“What, you got a problem with it?” Alfred put his hands on his hips, daring his former guardian to argue with him.</p><p>“So it <em>was</em> you!”</p><p>“Hey, never said that, dude. I mean, sure, I might’ve dragged my bro and Japan along, but that’s it, I swear! These other guys are not my fault!” Alfred pointed a finger at Yao, who immediately swatted it down.</p><p>“That’s rude, aru,” the Chinese nation snapped. “And if you must know, I happen to be one of the four who were actually invited. England brought it up during the summer while we were helping Hong Kong move again.”</p><p>“Speaking of Hong, I wish he could’ve come,” Yong Soo said. “And Taiwan and Viet-nuna... it’s too bad they couldn’t get all their I.D. stuff done in time.”</p><p>“And that Spanish bastard <em>said</em> he wanted to come,” Lovino muttered sulkily. “Why isn’t he here?”</p><p>“I wonder how Latvia and Estonia are doing,” Toris murmured. “They both said they were too busy...”</p><p>“Austria too,” Elizabeta said with a hint of wistfulness.</p><p>“I can’t believe that stupid aristocrat refused to join the awesome me,” Gilbert huffed, earning him a dirty glance and a backhanded hit from Elizabeta.</p><p>“<em>You’re</em> not supposed to be here either!”</p><p>“Aw, don’t worry about it, guys!” Alfred laughed over the ensuing squabble behind him. “We can always invite everyone else later! Like at Christmas or something, we could throw a giant party here and maybe the profs’ll be cool enough to give us free chocolate again—”</p><p>“Bloody hell, <em>no</em>!” Arthur’s roar of exasperation cut him off. “What you need to do <em>right now</em> is go upstairs, get your luggage, and get out of my school before you all get killed!”</p><p>“We are nations, England-san,” Kiku reminded his friend gently. “We cannot truly die.”</p><p>“That just makes it worse,” Arthur growled. “As soon as they try the Killing Curse on one of you and realise it doesn’t work, our cover will be broken right there. And trust me, I wouldn’t put it above the Death Eaters to do that—I don’t think they’ll have any qualms about murdering a student or teacher or representative within these walls, no matter how important you are. And they’ve got to think you’re pretty damn important if they let you in the school,” he added in a pointed snap.</p><p>“Yeah, it was a pain in the ass to convince your Ministry people,” Alfred said casually. “Managed it in the end though. They think we’re all purists who want to spread Mouldyshorts’ ideals in our own countries, or some bullshit like that.”</p><p>“I still do not understand, did this ‘Dark Lord’ not see what happened in the World Wars?” Francis asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “The second one in particular?”</p><p>“I thought everybody was wise enough not to repeat what my boss had done,” Ludwig thundered. “Who is this man? I’d like to show him what I think about this.”</p><p>“As much as you and I both would like to give him what he deserves,” Arthur said wryly, “I’m afraid that wouldn’t be the best course of action. Nor the most plausible, seeing as even I haven’t the faintest idea where he is right now.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, the hero will find—”</p><p>“Alfred, <em>shut up.</em>” Arthur pronounced each word in a slow, menacing tone. “Clearly, you don’t understand what’s happening here. This is not a game. This. Is. A. <em>War</em>.”</p><p>“And you’re not fighting it alone. Face it, Artie, we’re already here and we’re not going anywhere ‘til shit’s gone down.”</p><p>Alfred tossed out his words carelessly, almost jokingly, and Arthur turned on him, seething. But when they locked gazes, blue staring meaningfully into green, Arthur saw for a fleeting moment something much deeper in his former ward’s eyes; something he thought the superpower nation would never care enough to even think about.</p><p>
  <em>You’re not fighting alone.</em>
</p><p>The silence stretched between them for a long, tense minute. Finally, Arthur heaved a sigh and rubbed a hand against his temple. “Fine,” he grumbled. “If you’re going to be a stubborn git about it, suit yourself. Don’t get me sacked or I swear, I will send a fucking dragon after your sorry arse.”</p><p>He turned on his heel and stormed off towards the stairs, beckoning the others to follow him with a stiff jerk of his head. “Come. I’ll show you to your common rooms.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>tbh I think every nation has at least some traits of every House, it took sooooo long to decide who should go where, and even now I imagine AUs where they're Sorted completely differently ahaha. But I promise I do have reasons for putting everyone where they are!</p><p>Also, you're probably going to realise this at some point or another, but each House has exactly four nations. Believe it or not I didn't actually plan for that to happen lol. Happy coincidences ahoy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Drawing Alliances</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As loud and energetic as Alfred could be during the day, he was definitely not a morning person.</p><p>“Your pants are on backwards,” Yong Soo pointed out when the American stumbled, still half asleep, down the stairs.</p><p>Alfred yawned and ran a hand through his hair, making the blonde mess stick up even more, and he cracked open an eye to peer blearily down at himself. “Oh. Whaddya know.” And he began stripping off right there and then. As psyched as he was about the nations getting their own dormitories (in a <em>tower</em> too! How cool was that?), there was no way he was going to lug himself back up there and change in private, especially since the Gryffindor common room was deserted except for him, Yong Soo, and Feliks.</p><p>Feliks paused in the middle of fixing the bright gold polish on his fingernails, and he turned up his nose at Alfred’s star-patterned boxers. “Those undies are the stupidest things I’ve ever seen,” he said with undisguised disapproval.</p><p>“Your face is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen,” Alfred grumbled. Feliks’ mouth dropped open and he narrowed his eyes, looking genuinely offended.</p><p>“Play nicely, boys,” Elizabeta said, coming down from the girls’ dormitories, her long black robe swishing behind her. “Oh, America, you’re finally awake? Let’s go eat now, or we’ll all be late for class on the first day.”</p><p>“Aw, does that mean I can’t do my nails today?” Feliks said sulkily.</p><p>“No, you don’t have time for your gay morning routines,” Alfred said, hitching his pants back up the right way. He snatched the bottle of nail polish away from Feliks, who yelped in protest. “Come <em>on</em>, you slowpokes, my stomach’s begging for food here!”</p><p>“You were the last one to wake up,” Elizabeta said over her shoulder, ignoring Alfred’s indignant shout as she and Yong Soo clambered through the portrait hole.</p><hr/><p>The Gryffindor nations walked into a strangely hushed breakfast in the Great Hall.</p><p>“Everyone seems a little on edge,” Elizabeta murmured, following Feliks to the Ravenclaw table where Toris was sitting. “Do you think it’s because of...” She tipped her head very slightly towards the two Carrows, who were both prowling up and down the tables like hungry wolves stalking their prey.</p><p>“You!” Amycus suddenly snapped, pouncing on a nearby cluster of Ravenclaw third-years. “What did you just say?”</p><p>“N-n-nothing! Sir!” a boy squeaked, cowering away from the wand pointed at his nose.</p><p>“Nothing, huh? Well, I’ll tell you what,” he snarled into the third-years’ pale faces, “we don’t want <em>nothing</em> about Potter in these walls, y’hear? No gushing about how he’s gonna swoop in and defeat the Dark Lord—heh, as if! Your <em>hero</em>’s gone. And he ain’t coming back.” The corners of Amycus’ lips twitched upwards. “Scarpered to save his own skin, what do you say about that?” And with a casual flick of his wand he sliced a shallow gash across the boy’s cheek.</p><p>“Oi!” Elizabeta bolted forward and pushed herself between Amycus and the terrified students. “What do you think you’re doing? What kind of barbarian are you, attacking children like that?”</p><p>The squat professor did not back down from the brunette towering furiously over him, but merely stared with his snout-like nose wrinkled in contempt. “Ain’t your damned business, woman,” he said, shoving his face arrogantly into hers. “I’m the professor around here, and you’re gonna listen to me or I’ll Cruciate your booty right out of this castle. Now get back to your table, <em>representative</em>, or I’ll make an even better show outta you.”</p><p>Elizabeta fumed at him, an argument burning at the tip of her tongue. Then, over Amycus’ shoulder, she caught Arthur’s eye from the staff table, and he shook his head almost imperceptibly in warning.</p><p>
  <em>Don’t start anything.</em>
</p><p>The seconds ticked tensely by as Elizabeta glared at both professors. Finally, she stormed off towards the Gryffindor table without another word, grabbing Feliks’ arm and pulling him along.</p><p>Behind them, Amycus turned around with a satisfied smirk on his face. “What are you gawking at?” he snapped at Toris, who seemed caught between defending his friends and respecting the professor’s authority. Toris hastily returned to his meal without answering.</p><p>“What was that all about?” Yong Soo asked when Elizabeta sat down stiffly at the Gryffindor table, looking about ready to strangle somebody. Beside her, Alfred paused from stuffing his face with toast and inched over with slight apprehension. Feliks opened his mouth to explain, but instantly closed it again when Neville and Ginny hurried up to them.</p><p>“We saw that,” Neville said in a low voice, sliding into a seat next to Feliks, who was now staring down at his half-painted nails.</p><p>“Could we talk to you for a second?” Ginny asked Elizabeta, her eyes darting around warily to watch for eavesdroppers.</p><p>Elizabeta blinked. “Of course, but why—?”</p><p>“Later,” Neville whispered. “Can’t do it here, we’ll be overheard. Meet us in the Gryffindor common room tonight.” Then he quickly straightened up and pretended to be interested in the fried eggs, just as Professor McGonagall approached with a stack of parchment in her arms.</p><p>“Your timetable, Longbottom. Let's see, Weasley... Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Potions. Yes, everything seems to be in order, you've achieved satisfactory O.W.L.s in each of them. As Muggle Studies is compulsory this year, I will add that to your timetable as well.” She handed Neville and Ginny a piece of parchment each detailing their schedules for the year. While the two looked over their classes, McGonagall turned her austere gaze on the four nations. “You representatives will be shadowing the seventh-years of your respective Houses. A few modifications have been made to your timetables to accommodate all available electives, and the four of you will be following identical schedules. We believed it would make your visit easier if you remained with familiar faces.”</p><p>“Damn straight,” Alfred said, snatching one of the timetables that McGonagall offered them. “Thanks, prof!”</p><p>Her lips pursed in a critical manner. Elizabeta tried to make up for Alfred’s rudeness by taking her own timetable as courteously as possible. “Köszönöm szépen, asszonyom,” she said in the ladylike tone she used in Roderich’s house. “Thank you very much, madam.”</p><p>McGonagall paused and looked Elizabeta squarely in the eye. Behind her spectacles, there was a peculiar expression on the professor’s aged features: something vaguely like concern...?</p><p>“Be mindful of the limits in this school, Miss Héderváry,” she said shortly. “It would be unwise to give our Deputy Headmasters a reason to punish you.”</p><p>Elizabeta stared after her as McGonagall swept away to distribute timetables to a group of awkward-looking first-years.</p><p>“Man, I wish you guys would quit talking in code,” Alfred said loudly. “Makes me feel kinda left out, y’know?”</p><p>Meanwhile, Neville was sympathising with an obviously displeased Ginny about her schedule. “Cheer up, Ginny, it’s only one period of Defence. I’ve got double Muggle Studies with Carrow tomorrow. And so do you lot,” he added, peering over Feliks’ shoulder at his timetable. “Blimey, we’ve got a lot of classes together, look. Herbology, Charms... oh, you’ve got Transfiguration too. See, my grades weren’t good enough to take the N.E.W.T. class...”</p><p>“Aw, we don’t get to see Ravenclaw until tomorrow?” Yong Soo whined, examining his own parchment. “Jja jeung na, I wanted to hang out with hyung and Japan today!”</p><p>“You mean those two blokes over there?” Ginny glanced over at the Ravenclaw table, where Yao and Kiku were pointedly ignoring each other as they both ate in silence. “Japan isn’t really his name, is it? Why do you talk about each other like you’re countries?”</p><p>Alfred did a spectacular spit-take. Feliks snorted. Yong Soo’s mouth flopped open, belatedly realising his mistake.</p><p>“It’s just a nickname,” Elizabeta said hastily, snapping her attention back to the conversation at hand. “Sometimes we refer to each other by the countries we represent. It’s an inside joke, if you will.”</p><p>“Except now apparently we have to call Artie ‘Professor Kirkland’,” Alfred snickered, wiping his mouth. “Oh man, that’ll be a riot, seeing the great old Brit stoop down to teaching a bunch of kids.”</p><p>“You know Professor Kirkland personally?”</p><p>“He was the one who, like, started this whole thing,” Feliks said, finally speaking up. “He’d totally be the rep for England if he wasn’t a prof.”</p><p>“And if his government wasn’t all messed up,” Yong Soo added.</p><p>“Yeah, I can see why you wouldn’t want to work for the Ministry these days,” Ginny said darkly. She paused and then lowered her voice to a whisper. “Hey, are you sure Kirkland isn’t—”</p><p>A sharp bang cut into the hum of chatter, and suddenly everything fell dead silent. Then Alecto Carrow’s voice shrilled through the Great Hall: “All right, kiddies, cozy morning chitchat’s over! Get into lines like you did last night and scarper off to class! No dawdling! Hurry up and get moving!”</p><p>A few protests broke out from people who weren’t yet finished with their breakfast, but several whip-like snaps of Amycus’ wand cut their voices off. Visibly frightened, several of the younger students were already scampering out of their seats. Standing at the front of the room, the Carrows glared down all the others who ignored the order, and they threw haphazard curses at the ceiling to warn anyone who would dare utter a defiant word. Finally, tinkle by tinkle the silverware was set down, as students slowly began deferring to the Carrows’ demand. Neville, Ginny, and Elizabeta were among the last to stand.</p><p>And thus began the first day of school, with everyone filing wordlessly out of the Great Hall as if in a death march.</p><hr/><p>“Is that <em>hers</em>?”</p><p>“Why would you even need one here?”</p><p>“Is she even allowed to do that?”</p><p>“Scary...”</p><p>Her nonchalant expression unchanging, Natalya turned over the large silver knife in her hand and continued to polish it. She hardly appeared to notice the apprehensive stares she was getting, or the fact that nobody was willing to sit within a three-seat radius from her position at the back of the classroom. Well, nobody except Matthew, but with all the attention he was failing to get, he might as well have been an empty seat.</p><p>“Calm down, Megan,” Ernie Macmillan told the girl sitting beside him, who was staring at Natalya with a mixture of fear and suspicion. “I’m sure these foreign representatives are credible. They wouldn’t be one of <em>them</em>.” Nevertheless, Ernie himself cast a furtive glance at the Belarusian, wondering what her excuse could possibly be for bringing such a weapon to class.</p><p>The door banged open and Amycus Carrow stomped inside, looking more than a little irritated. “Damn kids, wasting my time,” he muttered, slamming his books down with such force that several people jumped. He slapped a hand on the teacher’s desk and leaned forward, surveying the small class with a leer. “Now, lemme put this to you up front—I ain’t putting up with pussies here. You whelps are gonna do as you’re told, no lates, no skiving, and no backtalk, or you’ll regret it.”</p><p>The Hufflepuffs remained dead silent. Even Feliciano didn’t make a squeak, although he fiddled with his wand under his desk, ready to conjure up white flags at a moment’s notice.</p><p>“We clear? Good.” Amycus flipped open the book at the top of the pile and perused the gruesome diagrams with mild interest. “Now, let’s get right down and dirty here.”</p><p>“Sir?” Matthew said hesitantly. The professor appeared not to hear him. “Um... sir...” He raised a nervous hand, but still there was no reaction. “Sir!”</p><p>“What?” Amycus snapped, his head whipping up to glare at the interruption.</p><p>“I—I was just wondering... why is the textbook about the Dark Arts? Isn’t this class about Defence? Did we maybe get the wrong list of school supplies?”</p><p>“Huh, you didn’t know?” For the first time that morning, a slow, faintly psychotic grin crept across Amycus’ face. “Curriculum’s changed. We ain’t wasting time on any of that defence crap, oh no. A lot of slop’s been dumped into your brains for the past six years, but lucky for you lot, you still got one last shot at learnin’ some <em>real</em> magic.”</p><p>He shut the book with a muffled snap. Then, twirling his wand between his fingers, Amycus strolled casually around the teacher’s desk and began striding up and down the rows of speechless students. “Yeah, it’s been a long time comin’, I gotta say. Now that all the Mudblood filth’s been purged outta this place, we can finally get back to teaching the old ways, how it shoulda been taught all this time—before they started lettin’ those other sort in.”</p><p>“But Hogwarts was never a pureblood school,” Ernie felt the need to point out. “The founders were never as narrow-minded and bigoted as you lot.”</p><p>“Shut yer trap!” Amycus suddenly roared, whipping around and lashing out his wand. Ernie’s head jerked to the side with a grunt of pain. After a stunned second, he slowly turned his head and ran his fingers over the fresh red mark on his cheek, which was already starting to blossom into a puffy bruise.</p><p>“I said <em>no backtalk</em>,” Amycus added in a snarl, before turning his back on the class’ shocked stares.</p><p>He stopped prowling to reassume his position at the front of the room. “Now, I ain’t expecting much from you lot. Professors of all sorts coming in and out, there hasn’t been one year when you were taught properly, so I’m told. Wimpy little jinxes and useless rubbish, that’s all you probably know, am I right?” His sharp, sinister gaze swept around the room and landed on Ernie. “You!”</p><p>Ernie’s eyes widened as he was suddenly hoisted into the air by Amycus’ pointed wand. His limbs flailed uselessly as he dangled a metre above his desk.</p><p>“You’ll make a good guinea pig, won’t you, ya mouthy little thing?” Cracking another smile, Amycus gestured to his victim with his free hand. “How about the rest of you show me what you know already? Curses, hexes, whatever ya got. If you can make him cry, I’ll be mighty impressed—I might even spare the rest of you for the day. Go on then, fire away!”</p><p>At first, nobody moved. Not one person made a sound, not even Ernie, whose face was twisted in panic as he struggled against the wand’s invisible grip.</p><p>“N-no.”</p><p>All eyes snapped to the speaker, whose long red bangs fell over her face as she stood up. Feliciano gave a start when he recognised her as the quiet girl he sat next to at the feast. This was the first time he had heard her speak. Her head was bowed slightly towards the floor, not quite meeting the professor’s glare even as she addressed him. “Let him down. We’re not going to do it.”</p><p>Amycus sneered. “And just who do you think <em>you</em> are?”</p><p>“Susan Bones. Sir.” She seemed reluctant to address him with any word of respect.</p><p>“Bones, huh?” he echoed. “Yeah, I’ve heard that name. Troublemaking lot, fought a bunch of ‘em in my time.” Susan’s nails dug into her palm and she pressed her lips together, but she was still unwilling to look up. This did not escape the notice of Amycus, who grinned. “Oh yeah, that’d be your dear old family, wouldn’t it? Same blood running through your veins, no wonder you’re a rebellious little wench. Just like auntie. You wanna go the same way as her? ‘Cause the way you’re talking to me just now, you’re already skipping down that road.”</p><p>Susan froze, her face abruptly draining of colour.</p><p>“Perhaps she has a point.”</p><p>All heads whipped to Natalya, who stared at the professor over the blade she was idly caressing. She spoke as if choosing her words with meticulous care. “If the education in this class has indeed been as inconsistent as you say, there is no reason to expect these children to know what they are doing.”</p><p>Amycus began to advance upon her. He didn’t notice Susan falling back into her chair; his attention was now entirely riveted on this foreign intruder who dared to interrupt him. “So the kids ain’t the only ones who got a big mouth, huh?” he growled.</p><p>“That is a crass way of putting it,” Natalya countered calmly. “I am merely speaking as one comrade to another—it is a waste to spend so much energy on a handful of stupid children.”</p><p>Ignoring the mixed reactions of confusion and indignation from the students, she continued without pausing, “Restricting education only to those you deem worthy, that was a smart move. But it appears there is still much work to do.” The Hufflepuffs were surprised to see that, for the first time, her expressionless mask had broken. She arched her eyebrows in curiosity and leaned forward on the desk, her chin propped in her palm. “Your new regime sounds very intriguing, and my comrades and I would be interested in hearing the story behind it.”</p><p>Amycus gave her a long, suspicious look. Then he lowered his wand and released Ernie, who came crashing back down onto his desk. Several people began to rise from their chairs to check on their feebly stirring classmate, but Amycus banged a hand on the teacher’s desk, threatening them to stay put.</p><p>“Well, here’s the bottom line,” he said, addressing the nations. “Natural order’s being established, and soon enough them filthy Mudbloods’ll know their rightful place. We purebloods’ll reign superior, just like we shoulda been the whole time.”</p><p>“Yes, of course,” Natalya said in an encouraging tone. “As a matter of fact, our own governments greatly admire your ideals. We hope to spread them to our own countries as well—this is the main reason we representatives are here.”</p><p>The other three nations looked on with bewilderment, each with the same unspoken question written on their faces: <em>what are you doing?</em> But none of them voiced anything to the contrary. Natalya’s words had, at least for the moment, gotten Amycus to lower his wand and distracted his attention from the students.</p><p>“That so? Well, the Dark Lord’ll be pleased about that, I reckon. Hadn’t thought much about going outta the country, but I s’pose it was gonna happen sooner or later, all the Mudbloods in this world gettin’ what they deserve. I bet at this rate, soon enough there won’t be any Mudbloods <em>or</em> Muggles gettin’ in our way. Ain’t that sound like a beautiful world!” Amycus laughed, a horrible cackling noise that made everyone bristle. Clearly, this was something that he took relish in saying, and he seemed to forget entirely about inflicting violence for the moment, if only to draw out his gloating.</p><p>“Beautiful,” Natalya echoed, as though testing the word on her tongue. “How admirable... we do have a problem with these magicless in Belarus as well. What would you say is the best solution?”</p><p>Amycus seemed only too happy to share. He began his rounds around the classroom again, sharing stories about murdering Muggle families as casually as if it were a sport, all the while being spurred on by Natalya’s prompting. The atmosphere among the students was by no means relaxed, but many of the students no longer looked frightened as Amycus spewed his vast repository of hateful beliefs at them; some of their expressions even began to change from apprehension to anger.</p><p>He was so caught up in his self-righteous speech that the class ended sooner than anyone expected, and right as the bell rung the Hufflepuffs instantly rushed to get out. Only Natalya lingered briefly behind. Looking back into the empty room, she caught Amycus’ expression, surprised and irritated, but only met his gaze for a second before she disappeared out the door as well.</p><hr/><p>“Dude, what happened to <em>you</em>?” Alfred demanded as a visibly dishevelled Feliks traipsed into the Gryffindor common room. The Pole’s blonde hair stuck up like a scraggly bush, his robes were rumpled, and his face was clammy and flushed a deep shade of red. “You look like you got run over by a lawn mower!”</p><p>“Some chick made fun of my hair and I told her that her face looked like a pug,” Feliks said, flopping sullenly into an armchair next to Yong Soo. “She got all pissy at me and tried to take my head off, and like, obviously I fought back, and we made a huge scene in the middle of the hall. Then McGonagall showed up and we both got totally chewed out, and then she made me take the bimbo to the hospital wing ‘cause I turned her feet into stilettos and she couldn’t walk.”</p><p>“Couldn’t she have just taken them off?” Yong Soo asked.</p><p>“Nah, I Transfig’d her feet, not her shoes. Hey, where’s Liz?”</p><p>“Over there, doing some weird secret meeting stuff,” Alfred said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. Behind him, Elizabeta, Ginny, and Neville were huddled in an inconspicuous corner of the common room, muttering to each other in serious undertones.</p><p>Feliks flounced out of his chair and towards the trio, seemingly oblivious to the somber mood hanging over them, and he tapped Elizabeta on the shoulder. “Liz! Hey, Liz!”</p><p>“Oh, Po!” Elizabeta’s eyes widened as she took in Feliks’ uncharacteristically sloppy appearance. “Po, what happened to you?”</p><p>Feliks repeated his story, and by the time he finished with a dramatic flourish of his hand, Elizabeta’s alarm had been replaced by amusement and she was fighting down a giggle.</p><p>“So, like, I need you to help me do my hair again ‘cause I can’t see the back of my head in the mirror.”</p><p>“Can it wait?” she asked, looking up with an apologetic smile. “I have... things to talk about with these two.” She gestured to Ginny and Neville, both of whom looked slightly ruffled by the interruption. “Later this evening, I promise.”</p><p>Feliks puffed out his cheeks in a spectacular pout. When Elizabeta still didn’t budge, he heaved a sigh and trudged back to the fireplace, where Alfred and Yong Soo were having a deep discussion about using Auto-Answer Quills to finish the paperwork their bosses had promised to send in their absence.</p><p>“Lucky he wasn’t caught by Filch,” Neville said, throwing Feliks a peculiar glance over his shoulder. “Or Snape. They hate it when people fight in the halls.”</p><p>“I’m just happy he was let off so lightly,” Elizabeta said, frowning. “From what I’ve seen so far, I thought punishment at this school would be much more severe.”</p><p>“Well, most of the teachers are pretty reasonable,” Ginny said. “It’s just Snape and Filch most of the time... and now there are those Carrows too.”</p><p>“You said they’re Death Eaters? Supporters of the Dark Lord?”</p><p>“Positive they are.” Ginny leaned in and lowered her voice to a murmur. “You know that since Snape’s headmaster now, You-Know-Who’s basically got control over Hogwarts, right? It makes sense that he’d plant a few of their kind here. And Kirkland too, he was hired at the exact same time—isn’t that a bit dodgy? The way he acts, it’s hard to tell if he’s in the same league as You-Know-Who, but we reckon he might be up to something anyway—”</p><p>“Arthur does <em>not</em> want to hurt anybody,” Elizabeta cut in fiercely. “He came to help, that much I know for sure. Don’t you dare put him on the same level as those barbaric colleagues of his.”</p><p>Neville looked slightly uneasy at her outburst. “We’re not trying to accuse him of anything—”</p><p>“And you shouldn’t!”</p><p>“—but in times like this, we have to be careful,” he finished, carefully watching Elizabeta for her reaction.</p><p>It came as a curtly arched eyebrow. “So why are you telling me all of this?” she asked. “If you’re trying to be so careful with who you trust, why are you sharing your suspicions with me?”</p><p>“Remember this morning?” Neville said. “You challenged Amycus right to his face. You wouldn’t be defending us if you were on You-Know-Who’s side.”</p><p>“We’re not the only ones who noticed either,” Ginny added. “Demelza told me she tried to stand up to Amycus today, and she mentioned you—something about you having more nerve than him and his sister put together. She got a week’s worth of detention for it though. I reckon Amycus hates you already, and it’s only the first day.”</p><p>“It’s not like I want that <em>seggfej</em> to like me anyway,” Elizabeta said coldly, her face clouding over. The other two stared at the use of her native language, but she shook her head and her dark expression cleared as suddenly as it had come. “I must say, you children certainly are brave for calling out that man’s appalling behaviour. Nobody should have to go through such awful treatment, especially not at your age.” Her fingers twisted together in mild abashment. “I know as a guest I’m supposed to respect the authority figures around here, and Arthur’s already cornered me after dinner and lectured me about drawing too much attention to myself. Still, I can’t say I disapprove. To tell you the truth... I wish I could do something more to help.”</p><p>“Thank you for the offer,” Neville said sincerely. “But you don’t have to worry about it, just the vote of confidence is enough.”</p><p>He offered her a small smile, which she warmly returned. But as Elizabeta stood up to rejoin her fellow nations, she didn’t miss the meaningful glance that he and Ginny exchanged.</p><hr/><p>Vines hung limply from the ceiling, their leaves curled up in sleep under faint rays of moonlight. From his cosy slouch on the sofa, Matthew tilted his head up and stared out the window, oddly mesmerised by the sway of dandelions and crisp blades of grass against the glass. Clouds drifted in and out of view against a twilight backdrop. Kumajirou was nestled in his owner’s lap, and Matthew had his arms wrapped around the warm, furry bear like a pillow.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Mr Vargas, but you’re rubbish at this.”</p><p>Violet eyes flickered to the centre of the room, where Feliciano was on his hands and knees at the coffee table, poring over a chessboard. Across from him, Leanne watched him with mild amusement as he wracked his brain for his next move.</p><p>“Knight to E5!” he said finally, and the miniature white horse trotted obediently to its new square.</p><p>“You dumbass,” Lovino hissed from over his brother’s shoulder.</p><p>“You know that puts you directly in the line of fire, right?” Leanne pointed out. True to her word, her black pawn promptly hopped up and with a violent lunge smashed Feliciano’s knight to pieces. She reached over the board to sweep them out of the way.</p><p>“Ah, well,” Feliciano said brightly, scratching the back of his head. “Ludwig said I was never good at battle strategy anyway.”</p><p>“Potato bastard’s got a point there,” Lovino grumbled.</p><p>The door creaked open and in stepped Natalya, her small figure half-hidden by the shadows. It caught the attention of everyone inside the near-deserted common room, and an instant hush settled over them all. Natalya glanced around; six pairs of eyes stared back at her.</p><p>“Is there a problem?” she asked calmly.</p><p>Ernie coughed. He would have loved to say “Yes, there is”, but doing so demanded a certain level of recklessness that he wasn’t prepared to take on. Instead, he settled for folding his arms and nonchalantly lifting his chin.</p><p>“Well...” Matthew took the honours, seeing how nobody else was willing to bring up the elephant in the room. “You did cause a bit of a scene in class today. With Amycus Carrow, I mean.”</p><p>“I was distracting him,” Natalya said.</p><p>“You insulted our intelligence!” Leanne said heatedly.</p><p>“So you would have rather been forced into hurting him?” Natalya asked coldly, indicating Ernie. “You would have preferred the violence over simply enduring an inane rant? Fine. Perhaps next time I won’t make such an effort for your sake. Then I won’t have to pretend to be on their side, or yours.”</p><p>“Natalya,” Matthew interjected quietly. “Don’t you remember? We promised to help.”</p><p>“We also promised not to draw attention to ourselves,” Natalya pointed out, “and already we’re failing. You know what the consequences will be. Starting an active rebellion would undo the efforts that brought us here in the first place.” She turned away from them, clearly intent on ending the discussion, and swept away to the dormitories.</p><p>“Why isn’t that woman in Slytherin?” Ernie finally demanded, breaking the silence that followed Natalya’s departure. “She’s got the full makings of one, it seems.”</p><p>“The Sorting Hat’s been wrong before,” Hannah said. “Maybe this is one of those times?”</p><p>“Fratellone, what are we going to do?” Feliciano sniffed. “I don’t want to hurt anybody!”</p><p>“Stop crying!” Lovino snapped, but he didn’t have an answer to his brother’s question.</p><p>“Pardon me for asking,” Ernie said, frowning at Matthew, “but what did you mean by ‘you promised to help’? I was under the impression that you representatives came here on business.”</p><p>“Technically, that’s true,” Matthew said, shrugging. After all, fulfilling their duties as nations <em>was</em> their business. “That doesn’t mean we don’t care what Voldemort’s up to—”</p><p>Hannah squeaked and Leanne muffled a horrified gasp with her hands. Ernie’s eyes widened in astonishment.</p><p>“You—you said You-Know-Who’s name!”</p><p>Matthew blinked. “I-is that wrong?” It was true that Arthur normally called him “the Dark Lord”, but he had also dropped the name “Voldemort” once in a while... surely he wouldn’t have done so if it were unspeakably offensive?</p><p>Leanne stared at him with a mixture of fear and awe. “It’s just... you’ve got to be either really brave or really stupid to say his real name.”</p><p>“I’ve never even heard Death Eaters do it,” Hannah murmured.</p><p>“What’s the big deal?” Lovino said. “It’s just a name.”</p><p>“It’s not <em>just</em> a name,” Ernie said sternly. “It’s the name that everybody’s afraid of.” He fixed Matthew with a scrutinising look. “Dumbledore was the only one who dared to say it.”</p><p>“I won’t do it again,” Matthew said quickly. “From the sound of it, that would arouse even more suspicion.”</p><p>“I still don’t get why we should care about that,” Lovino said. “Those bastards hate us anyway. Doesn’t matter if we dig ourselves a little deeper into this shithole.”</p><p>“We can’t do that!” When several eyebrows were raised at him, Matthew hastily continued: “I mean, Natalya has a point. We worked so hard to get the Ministry of Magic to trust us, it’ll all be a waste if we start being reckless.”</p><p>“You say that like it’s not going to happen eventually,” Lovino snorted.</p><p>That made the Canadian pause. It was true. Alfred, for one, had never been someone to show very much self-restraint, and even if he hadn’t done anything particularly stupid yet, the other nations were clearly not very happy with the situation either.</p><p>“Ve, don’t say things like that, fratellone!”</p><p>“Admit it, someone’s going to screw up at some point and then they’ll be onto us.”</p><p>“You’re so negative all the time...”</p><p>“You’re just idiotically optimistic!”</p><p>“Maybe it’s best if we warn the others to be careful, before anything happens,” Matthew suggested quietly—a bit too quietly, as nobody appeared to hear him over the Vargas brothers’ bickering. Being quite accustomed to this, he merely sighed and stood up to take matters in his own hands. “I don’t hear any objections. Let’s go, Kumapolo.”</p><p>And like an apparition, he disappeared in silence.</p><hr/><p>Long, gloomy shadows stretched across the floor, dancing under the dim flames of torches. Every step rattled down the empty hallway; every breath shook the cold stillness. Gryffindor Tower, Gryffindor Tower... he remembered passing it at one point earlier that day...</p><p>Tiny paws scratched frantically at his arm, leaving thin grazes in protest, but he refused to falter. This was his chance. Pass on the warning in the dead of night, slipping under the watchful tyranny that gripped the school... nobody would notice him. He put his faith in his invisibility, his forgettability, the curse of his life. He smiled wryly to himself.</p><p>So this was what he was good for. Of course. From past experiences, it wasn’t like he could expect any more, could he?</p><p>“Where d’you think <em>you’re</em> going, scum?”</p><p>Matthew froze.</p><p>A low cackle echoed through the corridor, and he whirled around to see the dumpy figure of Alecto Carrow stepping out from behind a pillar.</p><p>“Didn’t think night patrol was one of your jobs, rep,” she said casually, advancing upon him with a poisonous grin. Her bony fingers twirled her wand jauntily, as if she were a child eager to play with the new toy she had just found.</p><p>“I-I was just—”</p><p>“Yeah? Go on. Couldn’t sleep? We’ve got some pretty good remedies for that, y’know.” She crept closer, the grin growing almost diabolical. “If you wanted to be our guinea pig, all you had to do was ask. Not enough brats got the nerve to volunteer around here. In fact...”</p><p>He hastily backed up against the wall. A cringe contorted his face from the warmth of her breath. Kumajirou scrabbled more violently than ever.</p><p>“I think I’ll be doing a bit of asking meself. We’d be <em>delighted</em> to know what our guests are thinking.”</p><p>“N-no, I don’t think—”</p><p>A bang cut him off. His scream was trapped in his throat and he choked—toppled—</p><p>The last thing he knew was a vicelike grip on his arm, and everything went still.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Seeds of Solidarity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The leaves crumpled and withered from their branches, shivering in a brisk autumn draft that tore at their stems. Ominous shadows drifted past windows, circling turrets, hiding in the darkness; blanketed in haze, the dementors watched. Their frosty, rattling breaths filled the air with wisps of white against a gloomy grey sky.</p><p>“Gott, this place gives me the creeps,” Gilbert wheezed as he and Francis sprinted as fast as they could across the rugged school grounds. Cold wind blasted against their skin, pricking tears from the corners of their eyes. “The castle is pretty awesome, but those hooded things are definitely <em>not</em>!”</p><p>“Indeed, this is not the same Hogwarts I visited three years ago,” Francis said breathlessly, more to himself than his companion. “So this is why l’Angleterre was so keen on coming...”</p><p>After a quick glance behind them to make sure the dementors were no longer tailing them, the two Slytherin nations slowed down, gasping for breaths of crisp, icy air. “Mon dieu, I need to begin exercising again,” Francis said, doubling over and massaging his chest.</p><p>“Yeah, well, with all this freakish shit lurking around, you’ll get all the exercise you need,” Gilbert panted. “Aw, crap,” he added, staring in the direction of a glowing white figure prowling some fifty metres away from them. “Here comes another one—the hell is <em>that</em> thing?”</p><p>Francis squinted in the creature’s direction. “A ghost, perhaps? Or... wait.” Recognition lit up his face as it turned in their direction, as if it had heard them. “<em>Ah</em>, of course. I should have expected it from l’Angleterre.”</p><p>As he spoke, the animal stopped to shake out its mane, then glanced around, ears perked and maw lifted high in the air. The two nations watched as it leapt majestically across the hilly terrain and disappeared behind a large rocky outcrop.</p><p>Gilbert threw a baffled look at Francis, but he had already turned his back and started strolling leisurely in the opposite direction, having dismissed the incident as inconsequential.</p><p>The ground began to slope gently downwards, and at the foot of the hill they could see a knot of young teenagers gathered around their teacher. Arthur’s dark blonde hair seemed almost bright against the surroundings of brown and forest green.</p><p>“Coucou, Angleterre!” Francis called out in a singsong voice.</p><p>Arthur threw him a very reproachful glare. “It’s <em>Professor Kirkland</em>, if you don’t mind,” he said pointedly, avoiding the questioning looks from his students. “Aren’t you two supposed to be in class? It’s only the first week and already you’re skiving—not setting a good example for the students here.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, kids need to learn to enjoy themselves!” Gilbert said. “No fun in just sitting there with a book all day!”</p><p>This earned an irritated twitch from the bookish Englishman, and he turned stiffly to his bemused class. “Do <em>not,</em> under any circumstances, learn your habits from these two, government representatives though they may be.”</p><p>He then cleared his throat and his voice took on a much more authoritative tone, quite evidently trying to ignore the two intruders. “Now, would you please take out your copies of <em>Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them</em>—oh, don’t tell me,” he sighed as one girl timidly raised her hand. “You haven’t got your book, is that right? I’m afraid I haven’t brought any extras with me. Would anyone mind sharing with this young lady?”</p><p>“I’ve got a fantastic beast,” Francis purred. “Would you like to know where to find it?”</p><p>He swiftly blocked the Silencing Charm that Arthur shot at his head. Arthur paused in disbelief.</p><p>“I didn’t know you were that good at nonverbal spells.”</p><p>“You are not the only one who still practises magic, mon ami,” Francis said, dispelling the barrier with a nonchalant wave. “But the rest of us are sensible enough not to meddle in the affairs of the other side.”</p><p>“Yet you lot still come all the way here,” Arthur snapped. “And I’ll have you know, this mess is hardly my fault.” He turned back to his class. “Faulkner, share your book with Miss York for the time being. Miss York, I will let you off today seeing as it’s the first week back, but you must make sure to come fully prepared for next class. Is that understood?”</p><p>The girl with the missing book nodded wordlessly.</p><p>“Right. Turn to page twenty then, if you’d please.”</p><p>“Hey—”</p><p>“Not while I’m teaching,” Arthur growled at Gilbert.</p><p>“No, really—”</p><p>“I mean it. Sod off, the both of you.”</p><p>“What the <em>hell</em> is that?” Gilbert finally spat out, pointing over Arthur’s shoulder. He turned around and came face-to-face with a wraithlike skeleton, piercing white eyes sunken in gaunt sockets, sprawling leathery wings looming ominously overhead—</p><p>“Oh, it’s a Thestral,” he said calmly. “What are you doing out here? You’re not scheduled to assist me for another week.” He gave it a fond pat on its reptilian muzzle. “Go on then.”</p><p>“Er—professor?” One boy glanced uncertainly between his teacher and the spot where the Thestral was standing. “Who are you talking to?”</p><p>“Ah, yes, I don’t expect many of you to be able to see them.” Arthur gave the beast another firm pat. “Here under my hand is a Thestral, a winged horse-like creature found primarily in Eastern Europe and parts of Scandinavia. Can anyone tell me why some people can see them and some cannot?”</p><p>Momentary silence fell over the class. Then a low voice murmured, “They are only visible to those who have witnessed death.”</p><p>“Thank you, Bonnefoy,” Arthur said without looking at him. “That is correct. Thestrals become visible to those who have personally seen and accepted the death of another person. Most students, thankfully, lack that experience when they first arrive here at Hogwarts, and many lead their entire school lives believing that the carriages are animated by magic instead of being pulled by these brilliant creatures.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t exactly call them brilliant,” Gilbert muttered. “They look demons from the depths of hell.”</p><p>“They do have a reputation as bad omens, but their nature is in fact exceedingly gentle,” Arthur said. “There are books about them in the library if you’d like to see an illustration. But enough about Thestrals. They’re for the fifth-years.” He gave the Thestral a light rap on its bony flank, and it snorted and trotted off obediently towards the forest.</p><p>“So magic isn’t all about fancy wandwork, huh,” Gilbert said with a rare semblance of thoughtfulness.</p><p>“Glad you’ve finally realised it,” Arthur scoffed. “You haven’t seen what my N.E.W.T. students are going to have to deal with.”</p><p>“Is it dragons?” piped up one eager boy.</p><p>“Perhaps,” Arthur said vaguely. “But enough of all that! Without any further interruptions—” here he threw a pointed glare at the two loitering intruders “—turn to page twenty and read the introduction on Grindylows. I’ve got something I need to deal with, so I expect you all to be finished by the time I come back.”</p><p>With that, he turned militarily on his heel, grabbed Gilbert and Francis by their sleeves, and started dragging them back in the direction of the castle.</p><p>“Hey! You must not be so rough with us!” Francis yelped, without regard for the teenagers still within earshot. “No matter how depraved you are, some kinks should not be manifested outside of the bedroom!”</p><p>“Belt it,” Arthur snapped, aiming a swift kick at his ankle. Francis nearly tripped. “Where are you supposed to be anyway?”</p><p>“The greenhouse with the freaky plants,” Gilbert grunted. He was unsuccessfully attempting to shake himself free of Arthur’s grip and added loudly, “Let go, damn it! What are you doing!”</p><p>“Taking you back to Herbology, where you will both <em>stay</em> and <em>behave</em> for the next two hours.”</p><p>“I must say, mon ami, you have adapted to the role of teacher quite well—”</p><p>“I said <em>belt it</em>! I’ve got to keep you lot in line or there will be hell to pay for all of us.”</p><p>“C’mon, England,” Gilbert said, “we can’t get killed anyway. What’s the big deal?”</p><p>Arthur halted and twisted Gilbert around to face him. “First of all,” he hissed, green eyes flashing dangerously, “don’t call me by that name here. And under <em>no</em> circumstances should you reveal that little fact about us. Apparently you’re too thick to understand the concept of ‘secrecy’, but I trust even you won’t actively goad Death Eaters into attempted murder.”</p><p>Something in Francis’ face shifted in concern, but Gilbert merely snorted and turned his head away.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” the Prussian said dismissively. “I get the point!” he added when Arthur gave him a firm shake. “We’re supposed to call you Kirkland, keep on the down low and not get killed, is that it?”</p><p>“If you’d please,” Arthur said through gritted teeth, and he set off again with the other two stumbling in tow. When the clear glass rooftops of the greenhouses came into view, he finally let Francis and Gilbert go. “I’m as opposed to this regimen as anybody, but resistance does not mean stupidly charging into danger as soon as the opportunity arises. There is a very good reason I invited a select few to come with me, so that I would not have to mind you all like children. Now go back to class and <em>stay there</em>.”</p><p>And then he stormed away, leaving the two slightly disoriented on the grass.</p><p>The greenhouse door hardly made a squeak as Gilbert and Francis slipped inside, but nevertheless their late arrival managed to draw the attention of every single student. Some of the Slytherins were eyeing them with curiosity, others with suspicion. Ivan smiled placidly at them, while Ludwig let out a quiet sigh. Professor Sprout paused her lecture, put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow questioningly.</p><p>“Excusez-nous, madame, for our tardiness,” Francis said, treading Gilbert discreetly on the foot<em>.</em> ”As part of our duty, we only wanted to take a moment to inspect the grounds of this fine academy, perhaps to catch a glimpse of the kinds of wondrous flora you present to the students. But we had not expected its magnitude to be so <em>grande</em>, so <em>magnifique</em>! And so we found ourselves lost for a brief period of time. Our deepest apologies.” To top off his smooth improvisation, he swept his cloak round his feet and bent humbly at the waist.</p><p>Much to the surprise of the students, Professor Sprout waved a dismissive hand. “Apology accepted, gentlemen. Don’t fret, we haven’t gotten our hands dirty yet so you haven’t missed too much.” And she left it at that with no further comment on the matter. Gilbert shot Francis an impish grin, which he returned with a wink.</p><p>“Now then!” Sprout cleared her throat and clapped her thickly gloved hands together. “I hope I’ve made it clear enough how important this year is for you seventh-years, so I expect you all to put your very best effort in your studies, despite the school’s... unusual circumstances. Let’s get started.” She bent down out of sight for a few seconds, and then, with a loud heaving grunt, hoisted up a large, nut-like pod from the floor and let it drop with a thump on the table in front of her.</p><p>Francis’ expression immediately brightened. “Ah, Coco de Mer!” he exclaimed in pleasant surprise.</p><p>“Oho!” Professor Sprout beamed at him. “So you are familiar with this particular specimen, it seems. Excellent, excellent.”</p><p>A few students who were close to the front of the room began to giggle, and those towards the back who strained to take a look soon joined in. Gilbert let out an amused snort, and even Ivan seemed to be entertained. It wasn’t difficult to figure out why: the object they were to study that day was shaped distinctly like a woman’s pelvic region.</p><p>Sprout sighed and put on an exasperated smile. “All right, all right, get it out of your system now,” she said patiently. It took a few minutes for the class to settle down again. “So, as Mr Bonnefoy correctly said, this nut is from a plant called the Coco de Mer, which is particularly well-known for their peculiar mating habits. The male will uproot itself and travel great distances in search of a viable female, and may not necessarily return to its original spot after they have finished copulating. The Coco de Mer has a rather shy nature however, and will refuse to mate if they sense the presence of eyewitnesses. This, coupled with their rarity, has caused the species to become endangered even on their native island of Seychelles. To try and offset their dwindling numbers, conservation herbologists have recently made efforts to manually pollinate Coco de Mer plants in captivity, and today we’ll be learning the techniques to do so.”</p><p>As Professor Sprout dove into her demonstration, Pansy Parkinson seized the opportunity to lean over the table towards Gilbert.</p><p>“So where did you two <em>really</em> go?” she demanded in a whisper. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who was intrigued; upon overhearing the question, several eyes flickered in their direction, including those of Ludwig and Ivan.</p><p>“Told you, we just went for a walk,” Gilbert said, although his roguish smirk only seemed to heighten the Slytherins’ curiosity.</p><p>“Bruder,” Ludwig murmured in a low voice. “Don’t lie.”</p><p>“I’m not!” Gilbert retorted—a little too loudly, as Professor Sprout stopped mid-sentence to cast him a critical stare.</p><p>“Mr Beilschmidt, I won’t fault you if you already know what I’m teaching, but I must kindly ask you not to interrupt the education of my students.”</p><p>Ludwig nodded apologetically on his brother’s behalf. He was above such childish actions as hitting Gilbert or stepping on his foot, but when Sprout turned away, he did give him a stern glare until the Prussian’s smirk faltered. Though the rest of the Slytherins continued to prod them throughout the lecture, neither Gilbert nor Francis coughed up any more details, and soon the students simply fell back to giving them curious, sometimes suspicious, glances.</p><p>When Professor Sprout finished, she divided the class up into pairs to try their hand at the pollination themselves. Francis and Gilbert stuck together, while Ivan cheerfully pulled a stoic Ludwig by the arm so that they could stand closer together while they worked. Meanwhile, the greenhouse broke into a flurry of activity as the students busied themselves with their assignment. Even this, however, did not fully distract them from the mystery of Francis and Gilbert’s outing; neither of the two nations in question missed the fact that they were still the centre of gossip.</p><p>“Man, with all the attention we’re getting, you’d think we went to go commit a crime,” Gilbert said to Francis as they went to retrieve the necessary materials, which included dragon-hide gloves, pliers, several rolls of Spello-tape, and of course, the Coco de Mer plants themselves.</p><p>“Ah, well, children are curious by nature,” Francis said fondly. “Particularly when something is being kept a secret from them.” He hummed as they deposited their load on the table, and then as he pulled on his gloves with tremendous enthusiasm.</p><p>“Y’know, you seem awfully excited about making these plant babies.”</p><p>“What can I say, mon ami? The least I can do is make my dear Michelle proud.”</p>
<hr/><p>With its dim green lighting, magnificent tapestries, and stone grey tiles swept free of dust but still tarnished with age, it was surprising how quickly the Slytherin common room started feeling homely. Its cold sense of grandeur certainly hadn’t faded since they first stepped foot inside, but given the past few days to adjust, the four Slytherin nations found themselves settling in quite comfortably.</p><p>In the centre of the common room were Francis and Gilbert, lounging together on shiny black armchairs, soaking up the atmosphere and the inevitable attention they were drawing from the other Slytherins. The two chatted to each other for the most part, taking breaks from their conversation every now and then to answer a question or two, or otherwise simply wave at the students who passed through on their way to the dormitories.</p><p>The door swung open and a flock of chattering seventh-year girls streamed into the room. Upon noticing the pair, they immediately broke into smiles and started whispering among themselves, with many throwing furtive glances at the two men. The nations watched them with mild curiosity before finally, one girl was brave enough to break away from the group and approach them.</p><p>“Hullo,” she said, sliding into an armchair across from them.</p><p>“Tracey, stop flirting with them,” her friend chided coolly. “It isn’t going to work.”</p><p>“I <em>know</em>, Daphne,” Tracey huffed back. “I’m just being friendly. Nothing wrong with that, is there?” She turned back to the two men with a keen grin. “So, did you two have fun during Herbology? Where did you go?”</p><p>“Just for a little walk,” Francis said, with a wink that suggested he wasn’t at all opposed to being flirted with. His response, however, elicited an oddly excited reaction from the girls, who now seemed to be holding back giggles. The one in front of them, Tracey, peeked quickly at her friends as if to seek approval from them, and then she leaned forward in her chair and regarded the nations with wide eyes.</p><p>“I just want you to know that I completely respect you both,” she said seriously, glancing back and forth between them. “My mum wouldn’t approve, but love is love, so you two don’t need to hide it from me.”</p><p>“What the hell are you talking about?” Gilbert demanded. Francis’ face, however, lit up in understanding.</p><p>“Ah, mais oui,” he said, looping an affectionate arm around Gilbert. “We appreciate it, chérie. There are not many people in this world who are so open-minded.”</p><p>He was roughly shoved off. “We are not fuckbuddies,” Gilbert said emphatically, eliciting a round of pink-faced giggling from several of the girls.</p><p>“Would you care to repeat that, bruder?”</p><p>Both Gilbert and Francis whipped their heads around to see Ludwig towering over them, his expression austere as he eyed them both critically.</p><p>“Everyone seems to think we were on a date,” Gilbert said. “Can’t two guys hang out without wanting to stick their dicks in each other?”</p><p>The girls looked about ready to explode. Ludwig did as well, but for an entirely different reason. He rubbed a hand firmly against his temple.</p><p>“I shouldn’t have asked,” he muttered, his tone making it clear that he didn’t want to get involved in this massive misunderstanding in any way whatsoever. “Well, you can make your case without me, I am sure. I will be going upstairs.” Paying no heed to the awed stares that followed him, he marched to the boys’ dormitories and disappeared into the nations’ room, shutting the door loudly behind him. It seemed to leave a ringing echo in the brief silence that ensued.</p><p>“He is so <em>hot</em>,” Francis heard someone murmur behind him.</p><p>There was a disbelieving scoff in response. “Even you, Pansy? I don’t see what the fuss is all about,” said someone else, a male voice, with obvious displeasure. Footsteps approached, and the same voice then called out, “Hey, you there.”</p><p>Francis turned his head. The speaker was a tall boy with a wan, pallid face and white-blond hair, who was striding purposefully towards them. He stopped next to where Francis and Gilbert were sitting and, after a quick, calculating look at each of them in turn, he held out his hand.</p><p>“Draco Malfoy,” he said.</p><p>“Francis Bonnefoy,” the Frenchman replied, shaking it. “I recognise you. You are in seventh year, non?” If he wasn’t mistaken, he had seen the boy in the greenhouse that very afternoon, though he hadn’t spoken or made much of an impression. The only reason Francis remembered him was because he had stared at the nations for a long time over the course of the class, ignoring any of their smiles, waves, or attempts to be friendly.</p><p>Tracey had left her spot to rejoin her friends, whose smiles had now dropped. Many of them were regarding Malfoy with uncertainty. Appearing not to notice this, Malfoy slid into the empty armchair and Francis was surprised to see on his face—well, not quite a warm, welcoming expression, but something much less standoffish than what he had shown in class.</p><p>Gilbert, meanwhile, had been scrutinising the boy with a frown. “Aren’t you the guy who was ogling us the whole time we were in the plant house?”</p><p>The corners of Malfoy’s lips curled downwards, but before he could respond, Gilbert’s face split into a grin and he leaned back in his seat. “Hey, I get it! It’s hard not to stare when the awesome me is in the room!”</p><p>He threw his feet up onto the coffee table, eliciting a startled and rather reproachful look from Malfoy. The boy’s mouth moved in a way that made Francis sure he wanted to say something about it, but eventually he seemed to decide that Gilbert wasn’t worth wasting words on.</p><p>“So,” Malfoy began, instead focusing his attention on Francis, “about what happened today...”</p><p>“Gott, would you people just let it go?” Gilbert said, rolling his eyes. “We weren’t shagging behind the bushes or anything. We just went to crash Kirkland’s class for a bit.”</p><p>“Kirkland? The new professor?” Malfoy repeated sharply.</p><p>“Oui,” Francis said, and then added, perhaps sounding a bit too innocent: “It was not an important matter, we simply wanted to pay a visit to an old friend.”</p><p>“Do you all know each other, then?”</p><p>“Oui, oui. Our work here has nothing to do with him, but it was a happy coincidence to see him here at Hogwarts as well.” The lie rolled easily off Francis’ tongue, and he was pleased to see that his acting was good enough to assuage the boy’s worst suspicions. Malfoy’s apprehension seemed to crack a bit, and a look of genuine interest flitted across his face, though he still kept a wary eye on them as he leaned back in his chair.</p><p>“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, “what exactly <em>is</em> your business here, anyway? Surely you can’t just be here to hang around our classes the entire time.”</p><p>Francis didn’t answer right away. Arthur’s warning from earlier that day was still fresh in his memory, though he didn’t need the Englishman to remind him to tread carefully around this topic.</p><p>“The idea,” he said, keeping his voice light, “is for us to see how this country’s education system is running, given the recent turnovers in your Ministry.”</p><p>Malfoy looked slightly surprised. “You know about that?”</p><p>“If that’s supposed to be a secret, then you guys are pretty bad at keeping secrets,” Gilbert said.</p><p>“Indeed,” Francis said. “We understand that your government is implementing a new regime in order to—ah, how to say it... manage those you deem of subpar background.”</p><p>“That’s a real wishy-washy way of putting it, but yes,” Malfoy snorted.</p><p>“Not ‘wishy-washy’,” Francis tutted, waving a finger at him. “Politically correct. When your career deals with the government, these are things you must learn.”</p><p>“But the point is,” Gilbert said, “you’re trying to get rid of all these Muggle people, aren’t you?” He was never quite as good at acting as Francis was; his voice now had a definite edge to it, and Francis touched him lightly on the arm.</p><p>“Muggles aren’t the problem,” Malfoy scoffed. “They’re all so stupid. It’s mostly Mudbloods they’re rounding up now, destroying their wands and locking them away to keep them from mixing with our kind.”</p><p>“And killing them too?” Gilbert practically spat out the words, and Malfoy narrowed his eyes at him.</p><p>“Are you one of those Mudblood lovers? You’ve picked the wrong side, I’ll tell you that right now. Even leaving the country isn’t going to save them. The Dark Lord, he—he’s going to kill them all—and good riddance.”</p><p>Francis tilted his head slightly. No... he hadn’t imagined that split second falter, nor did he miss the brief tremor in the boy’s hands when he spoke so casually of murder.</p><p>He wondered if pointing it out would be overstepping, but at that moment Gilbert suddenly stood up, towering over Malfoy with a rather dangerous look on his face. Francis immediately got to his feet as well, thinking fast before his friend could do anything rash.</p><p>“Ah, time for bed already, Gilbert? I must say I’ve been getting a bit weary myself, after such an eventful day. Thank you for the interesting conversation, mon ami,” he said breezily to Malfoy. “Bonne nuit, and we shall see you again tomorrow.”</p><p>The hasty exit seemed to snap Gilbert back to his senses, and he went along without another word. But unlike Francis, he didn’t bother giving Malfoy a smile before the two nations disappeared into their room.</p>
<hr/><p>Deep in the dungeons, in a lonely cellar muted by heavy stone walls, a string of choked cries went unheard.</p><p><em>“You said the Dark Lord’s name, didn’t you! What are you hiding? Talk! </em>Crucio!<em>”</em></p><p>He cried out again. His nails dug into his palm, drawing specks of blood.</p><p>But still he did not answer.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Reality Check</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Muggles,” Alecto Carrow said, “are no more than the scum of the earth. These dirty, mindless savages have ruined the lives of all wizards, and it’s a damn shame they hadn’t been exterminated right from the start. Then we wouldn’t be in this mess, running and hiding our wands like we oughta be <em>ashamed</em> of the power we hold over ‘em!” she roared so suddenly that many of the Ravenclaws jumped. Her anger abated as fast as it had come, and a smile immediately reappeared on her face.</p><p>“By themselves, Muggles are weak and it’s easy to slaughter ‘em by the numbers. But they got defenders, Mudbloods who steal magic from their rightful pureblood owners and then use it to destroy the peace of our wizarding world. Those skirmishes in the streets? People getting their houses broken into, random innocents getting attacked? All the work of Mudbloods!” she screeched, her beady eyes flashing. “Going after purebloods is what they’re doing, stirring up chaos and trying to get people afraid, ‘cause they’re spineless little worms, every last one of ‘em, and they know they’re fighting a losing battle—”</p><p>“Yeah, do you really think anyone’s thick enough to believe that?” Terry Boot cut in loudly.</p><p>Alecto stopped mid-sentence, her eyes bulging. Ignoring the worried looks from his classmates, Terry straightened up in his chair and raised his voice.</p><p>“I don’t suppose it means anything then, that it’s Muggle-borns who are getting attacked,” he said sarcastically. “Of course, it makes complete sense that purebloods are the ones being targeted, you know how there’s been a grand total of zero pureblood families who’ve been killed, how awful—”</p><p>His biting words were suddenly cut off by Alecto’s wand, which snapped through the air like a whip. Terry dropped to the ground with a yell of agonizing pain. Instantly, several others jumped from their chairs, and Michael Corner shouted his friend’s name in terror, but Alecto lashed out again and the students found themselves immobilised.</p><p>“Don’t even try it,” she snarled. “And...” she added, peering down at Terry who was now crumpled, utterly still, at the foot of his desk, “you’ll be joining me for detention after class.”</p><p>Leaving him there on the floor, Alecto calmly continued the lecture without sparing him another glance. It wasn’t until the class had ended that Terry finally stirred, awoken by the noise of the Ravenclaws packing up their belongings.</p><p>“You all right, mate?” Michael asked, shaking Terry’s shoulder in concern.</p><p>“I’ll be fine,” Terry mumbled into the ground. His voice sounded a bit hoarse. He heaved himself up into a sitting position, rubbed his head, then glanced around. “Blimey, is the period over already?”</p><p>“Yeah, seems like she knocked you out pretty good,” Anthony said, and then Alecto’s voice shouted over the commotion.</p><p>“You there! Boot! Get over here for your detention! And the rest of ya, hurry up and scram!”</p><p>Anthony gave Terry a sympathetic look, and Michael grabbed his hand briefly and muttered “good luck” before the two of them filed out along with the rest of their classmates. Alecto waited until the room was empty before she flicked her wand and the door slammed shut. A second later, Terry heard the unmistakable click of a lock.</p><p>“So,” Alecto began, in a voice that might have sounded sweet if it weren’t filled with malice. “Big mouth you’ve got there. Never learnt that kids should be seen and not heard, huh? Maybe this’ll hammer the lesson into your stupid skull.”</p><p>She slammed her hand violently on the teacher’s desk. “Put your hands out, boy!” she snapped. “Palms up!”</p><p>Terry did so, never tearing his glare from hers.</p><p>Alecto rapped her wand hard on his wrists, each one in turn, and through the stinging pain Terry felt an invisible force tightening around them. He gave them a tug, but it was like his hands had been shackled firmly to the polished wood, chaining him to Alecto’s desk.</p><p>She gave him no warning before striking his left wrist with her wand. He let out a startled yelp: the lash had left a raw laceration that stung horribly, as though a razor sharp knife had sliced through his flesh. Alecto raised her wand again.</p><p>“Gettin’ the message now?” she snarled as whipped it downwards ten more times in succession, and Terry cried out, jerking his arms around violently in a desperate attempt to yank them away. But the invisible shackles held tight.</p><p>He bowed his head, watching with burning eyes as blood started to drip onto the wood.</p><p>“One more stunt like that and I’ll cut your hands right off,” she said. “We clear, boy?”</p><p>Terry could only nod wordlessly, grimacing in equal parts pain and fear. He hardly felt the magical chains slipping off his wrists, and only when Alecto gave him a violent shove towards the door did he quickly take his leave.</p>
<hr/><p>“So that’s how I got these,” Terry finished, lifting the cloth off his forearm to reveal ragged, red gashes underneath. He had been recounting his detention to a small group of Ravenclaws gathered next to the fireplace in the common room, including his seventh-year classmates and the four nations. Seeing the stunned reactions from the others, Terry shrugged and added grimly, “Dunno if I should consider myself lucky. I mean, I saw Ernie yesterday and he was sporting this huge bruise on his face, it was swollen pretty bad—Amycus’ work, he said—”</p><p>“Yeah, I’d say you’re really lucky,” Michael said darkly. “Ginny was talking about how Alecto used the Cruciatus Curse on her the other day.”</p><p>“She <em>what</em>?” Terry and Anthony echoed in unison, and Padma clapped a hand to her mouth.</p><p>“What’s the Cruciatus Curse?” Yao asked blankly.</p><p>“It’s an Unforgivable Curse,” Sue Li murmured, her eyes wide with fright. “It’s used to torture people, cause them unbearable pain, and it’s really, really evil, one of the worst types of Dark magic in existence. The Ministry used to outlaw it before they...”</p><p>She trailed off and bit her lip uncertainly, as if even mentioning the Ministry’s downfall would bring about the very punishment she spoke of. What she had already said, however, explained enough. Now the nations looked appropriately disturbed; despite being unfamiliar with its Latin name, they all recognised the curse’s description.</p><p>An apprehensive lull fell over the group. Terry plunged his cloth back into the bowl of murtlap essence, and for a few moments, its soft squelching was the only sound in the nearly deserted room.</p><p>“Um...” All heads turned to Toris, who was fiddling with his wand, his forehead creased in thought. “In class today, there was mention of attacks... widespread attacks on innocent people, destruction of houses, things like that?”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s the state of the country right now,” Anthony said with a dejected sigh. “My dad’s a Muggle, and I’ve seen how it is on their side. It’s horrible, especially since they don’t know what’s causing it all. A lot of them are blaming it on terrorists, but they really haven’t got any idea who it could be.” He glanced back at the fireplace, and after a moment’s hesitation, added, “They had to go into hiding, my parents. Mum was worried they’d be targeted.”</p><p>Toris felt a small stir of guilt for even bringing up the subject.</p><p>“Poor England-san,” Kiku murmured suddenly. He spoke quietly enough that his words were caught only by his fellow nations, all of whom must have felt a sudden surge of sympathy for Arthur as well. Even with his strange, magic-loving ways, the Brit was ultimately like the rest of them, far more attached to the Muggle world than the wizarding one. Surely it must be killing him to have his country under such a siege.</p><p>“Are yours all right, Michael?” Terry was asking his friend.</p><p>“Yeah, Dad’s been sending me letters, keeping me updated. And Mum... well, you know what she’s like. Installed a dozen alarms on the house as soon as this chaos started. Not that any Muggle alarm would be able to hold Death Eaters back,” he added with a rueful shake of his head.</p><p>“Be careful with those letters, mind,” Sue interjected warningly. “I’ve heard rumours that Snape wants to start going through the post...”</p><p>Toris couldn’t help thinking that Hogwarts seemed less and less like a school with each passing day.</p><p>The conversation died out again, as nobody quite knew how to lighten the mood after such a heavy topic. It was finally broken when Terry got to his feet with his emptied bowl. “I think I’m going to head up now. We’ve still got to wake up early tomorrow.” This prompted murmurs of agreement from the rest of the students, who quickly followed suit and retreated one by one to their dormitories after bidding the others a weary good night.</p><p>Eventually, the nations were the only ones left.</p><p>“It’s awful, isn’t it?” Yao muttered at last.</p><p>“Yeah,” Toris said dejectedly. “I just wish... there were some way to keep ourselves updated on what's happening out there. I know you two probably don’t have much to worry about,” he said, glancing at Yao and Kiku, “but it’d be nice to have some peace of mind for the rest of us, you know?” Yao nodded in understanding. This whole debacle was probably far more stressful for the Europeans who had to worry about their own countries being the next target.</p><p>Meanwhile, Heracles had been his usual taciturn self for the entire evening, wordlessly following the conversation while petting the large ginger cat that had found its way into his lap. But for the past few minutes, he had noticed Kiku’s eyes flickering repeatedly to the side, and followed his gaze to an antique-looking radio sitting on the table in front of the fireplace.</p><p>“Do you think it would work...?” Heracles asked suddenly.</p><p>The other three looked startled—Yao and Toris at the odd question, and Kiku at the fact that somebody had caught onto his thought process.</p><p>“No, I expect not,” Kiku said after a pause. Then, at the sight of Yao and Toris’ puzzled looks, he added by way of explanation: “I was wondering if I could somehow fix that radio so that we could keep in touch with the Muggle world, but I doubt I can do much with this particular model. Besides, I suspect it is powered by magic, as is the case with everything else in this castle.”</p><p>“I’m pretty sure it’s working, at least,” Toris said. “I’ve seen students fiddle around with it before, although it doesn’t seem to connect to anything Muggle-related.”</p><p>“You could always give it a try, see if you can connect it to one of our news stations,” Yao suggested. “Even a British one may help.”</p><p>“Like I just said...” Kiku sighed, closing his eyes in exasperation. He didn’t see the irritation that flashed across his former guardian’s face from getting shut down immediately.</p><p>“Okay, okay, if you’re sure, aru. I just didn’t want to see you give up so easily, but since you’re being an insolent child about it,” Yao huffed.</p><p>“I did not say I am giving up,” Kiku said stiffly.</p><p>“Yes, you did, in that evasive way you always do. Because you’re always evasive about everything.”</p><p>“I think we all should go to bed,” Toris cut in, eager to quell the rising tension before it could get out of hand, as was so wont to happen between these two. “Hopefully we can still get a good night’s sleep after everything we heard today.”</p><p>He stood up and Yao immediately followed suit, much to Toris’ relief. The feeling was short-lived, however, as Yao stalked off first with more bite in his step than usual.</p><p>Toris pursed his lips. Having siblings seemed so exhausting.</p><p>As the remaining three made their way to the stairs, Kiku lingered behind for a moment, casting a brief, contemplative glance down at the radio. Then, after a bout of careful reconsideration, he picked it up and hid it discreetly inside his robes. Perhaps a bit of tinkering wouldn’t hurt after all.</p><p>Not that he would ever admit that Yao might actually have a point.</p>
<hr/><p>“Where’s Williams?”</p><p>The voice jolted Alfred out of his stupor. “Huh?” he said blankly.</p><p>McGonagall peered down at his crude doodles with stiff disapproval. “Matthew Williams. The young man who looks so much like you, but is far more attentive and does not disrespect my class by treating his books as scrap parchment.”</p><p>Alfred at least had the sense to look somewhat guilty. “Sorry, prof,” he said sheepishly, covering up the doodles with his arm. “Uh, Mattie? No idea where he’s at. You sure he’s not in the room somewhere?”</p><p>“Quite certain. His fellow House members do not seem to know his whereabouts either.”</p><p>Alfred raised an eyebrow at the three remaining Hufflepuff nations, but Feliciano could only give him a helpless shrug.</p><p>“He may be busy with an inspection somewhere else in the castle,” Elizabeta suggested, improvising an excuse in hopes of deflecting suspicion. McGonagall did not seem to buy it, but she merely gave Elizabeta a scrutinising look before turning back to the rest of the class.</p><p>“I will allow you to be dismissed early today,” she said, and there was a sudden flurry of activity as everyone eagerly started packing up. “For homework,” McGonagall added sternly, raising her voice to be heard over the rustling of papers, “you are to write an essay comparing the Conjuration of inanimate objects and living beings. Two feet minimum, to be handed in at the beginning of next week’s class.” A collective groan rippled among the students, but it was quickly silenced when their professor narrowed her eyes.</p><p>Within a minute, the Transfiguration classroom began to empty out as the seventh-years departed for lunch. McGonagall weaved her way around the vacating students and headed straight towards the nations, who were talking amongst themselves as they prepared to leave as well.</p><p>“May I have a word?” she said, in a tone of voice that suggested she was insisting rather than asking.</p><p>“Oh hey, miss,” Alfred said casually. “Sure, what’s up?”</p><p>McGonagall was silent for a few seconds, perhaps deciding how best to phrase what she was about to tell them. “It may be in your interest to know,” she said deliberately, “that I overheard Amycus Carrow yesterday saying something rather ominous.”</p><p>The lighthearted mood vanished instantly. McGonagall’s sharp eyes lingered on Alfred as she continued, “I was not in a position to hear his words very clearly, but from what I gathered, he was complaining about how difficult it is to extract information from ‘foreigners’. When I noticed Williams missing from class these past few days, I had my suspicions, and the fact that none of his colleagues know for certain his whereabouts does not bode well.” She paused to let the information sink in. “Remember, Miss Héderváry, what I said at the beginning of the year,” she warned, now turning to Elizabeta. “Do not be rash. Those in power here are unlikely to be forgiving.”</p><p>McGonagall turned on her heel and strode to the door. “I must lock the classroom now, so if you would all be kind enough to leave...”</p><p>The nations suddenly realised that they were the last ones there. “Oh, yes, of course!” Elizabeta said, hastily pinching the collars of her fellow Gryffindors to usher them out. Once they were all in the corridor, McGonagall closed the door behind them with a loud metallic click. She didn’t speak another word to them, nor did she look at them before setting off down the hall with her head held high and her cloak fluttering at her feet. Soon, McGonagall turned the corner and disappeared from sight, and the nations listened to the resonating echoes of her footsteps getting further and further away.</p><p>“So Canada was... kidnapped?” Feliciano whimpered, in a voice that suggested he didn’t want to believe it himself.</p><p>“Well, they’re not gonna get away with it!” Alfred snapped, his hands balling up into fists. “Nobody lays a hand on my brother without answering to America!”</p><p>“Woah, hey, slow down,” Yong Soo said with a frown. “We don’t even know if that’s what happened.”</p><p>“Weren’t you listening? They’re torturing him, I just know it!”</p><p>“All she said was that they are trying to get information from one of us,” Natalya pointed out. “Everyone has been asking us questions since we arrived. It does not confirm anything.”</p><p>“But she was <em>basically</em> like, ‘He might have been kidnapped’,” Feliks said. “Like, that was the whole point of her telling us what she overheard, right?”</p><p>“<em>Guys</em>!” Alfred suddenly threw his hands up in frustration. “We don’t have time for this Mickey Mouse bullshit! We gotta get moving on a rescue mission!”</p><p>“What’d I say?” Lovino grumbled. “I told Canada this was going to happen. ‘Can’t start being reckless’, he said, like he’d forgotten that this idiot is here.”</p><p>“What was that?” Alfred said, insulted.</p><p>“Romano is right,” Elizabeta said firmly, placing a hand on Alfred’s arm to deter him from running off right then and there. “We’ve got to think before we do anything. Perhaps we could go talk to the headmaster about it...”</p>
<hr/><p>“Let me guess, Snape wasn’t any help at all, right?”</p><p>Elizabeta sighed and stared out at the dark expanse of water stretched out before them. She had joined Neville and Ginny by the lakeside after dinner that evening, having snuck out of the castle along with their friend, a blonde girl they introduced as Luna. Their refuge among the trees seemed private enough for Elizabeta explain the situation with the nations’ missing colleague.</p><p>“He just <em>dismissed</em> us!” Elizabeta fumed. “It’s like he isn’t even concerned! What kind of awful headmaster acts so callous in a situation like this?”</p><p>“‘Awful’ doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Ginny said, scratching irritably at the dirt with a stick. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hand in it himself, to be honest.”</p><p>“How did the rest of your lot take it?” Neville asked.</p><p>“Well, Matthew is Alfred’s brother, so naturally Alfred wanted to go search for him right away. But we don’t even know where to start, and none of the other teachers could help us either. So I insisted on digging up the truth first before rushing headfirst into anything.” It was odd how Elizabeta found herself spilling all of this to three children whom she’d just recently met. On the other hand, they did seem to have some measure of trust in her, and so she felt compelled to return it in kind.</p><p>“I mean, I do understand his anger,” Elizabeta continued with a rueful shrug. “Someone he holds very dear is apparently getting hurt and we’re just not moving fast enough for him.” She paused. “I don’t suppose we’re making the wrong decision here.”</p><p>“No, of course not,” Neville said. “I think it’s smart, really, not to do anything too impulsive.” A hint of regret tinged his voice, prompting Elizabeta to wonder if he was speaking from experience.</p><p>“I’m sure Mr Williams will be all right,” Luna said seriously. “It’s true that the Carrows do some terrible things, but he seemed like a hardy enough person when we met him.”</p><p>While neither Neville nor Ginny looked entirely convinced of this, Luna’s words did manage to spark a hint of reassurance in Elizabeta. After all, the soft-spoken Canadian had been through his own share of suffering during his lifetime, and as a fellow nation, Elizabeta reminded herself that she had very little reason to doubt his tenacity.</p><p>Moving on from the subject of Matthew, she instead decided to broach another concern that had been nagging at her. “Speaking of those Carrows, I can’t help but be a tad worried about how openly you’re rebelling against them.” She directed her words at Ginny in particular, who had engaged in a yelling match with Alecto earlier that week and ended up disappearing for the rest of the day, only to stumble pale and lifeless back into Gryffindor Tower after dinner. It had taken her an entire day to recover. The news had spread like wildfire among the student body, encouraged by the Carrows themselves; they made no secret of how far they would go to inflict punishment, likely to deter others who were thinking of following her example.</p><p>“That doesn’t matter,” Ginny said defiantly. “The important thing is that we show them some of us won’t be taking this lying down. Even if we’re stuck with them, at least we can give them hell while they’re here.”</p><p>“Just don’t make a habit of getting yourself Cruciated,” Neville mumbled, fingering the hem of his cloak uneasily.</p><p>Elizabeta had a vague feeling that she ought to be impressed by Ginny’s show of courage, but hearing such words come from a <em>teenager</em> stirred an unsettling sensation in her stomach instead.</p><p>“Neville’s right,” she said. “I commend you on your bravery, but please, do make sure to take care of yourselves.”</p>
<hr/><p>As Yao was making his way back to Ravenclaw Tower, having lingered in the Great Hall after dinner to chat with Arthur, he spotted a lone, shadowed figure disappearing around a corner just ahead. Curious, he changed direction to follow that unmistakable flash of blue and blonde.</p><p>“Miss Belarus!”</p><p>She halted in her tracks, only turning her head a fraction to glance at who was tailing her. “Hello,” she greeted him curtly.</p><p>“Good evening,” Yao said in a much more pleasant tone. “Where are you off to all by yourself?”</p><p>“To speak with a professor,” Natalya replied. Yao’s politely inquisitive expression turned to one of mixed exasperation and concern.</p><p>“Aiyaa, don’t tell me you’ve gotten into trouble already...”</p><p>“I am not as stupid as some of our other comrades,” she snapped. “In fact, the entire purpose of this visit will be to <em>prevent</em> that from happening.”</p><p>She spoke as if this explained everything, but the only response she received was a questioning stare. Natalya merely closed her eyes and turned away. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter,” she said shortly, and she started forward again until rapid footsteps pattered up to her and a hand gripped her shoulder.</p><p>“Wait, wait!” It was clear that Yao wasn’t going to let her off so easily. “You’re visiting the professors... to convince them not to get us into trouble?”</p><p>She jerked away from him. “In a sense,” she said. “You know how the others have reacted to the situation here. They will not be willing to leave things be, and I suspect that, very soon, one of them will do something so reckless as to get us all thrown out.” Yao’s mind immediately jumped to Alfred and Yong Soo. He did not need any convincing about <em>that</em>. “At the very least we should persuade the authorities that it’s worthwhile to keep us here.”</p><p>Yao could understand her logic, but something still nagged at him. “Okay, I suppose that makes sense, aru... but why are you doing this by yourself?”</p><p>There was a pause. “I daresay our comrades will not be receptive of my methods,” she said without looking at him. Yao immediately put the pieces together.</p><p>“You’re going to offer them help,” he said. Not a question asking her to confirm, but a statement that was devoid of anger or judgment, much to Natalya’s surprise. Still, she did not turn around. Whether or not he approved was of no concern to her.</p><p>She only took another two steps forward before he cried out again: “Wait!”</p><p>“Do not try to talk me out of this,” she said coldly over her shoulder. “You’ll be wasting your breath.”</p><p>“No, it’s not that,” Yao said, hurrying up next to her. “I’m coming with you.”</p><p>This actually managed to throw Natalya off-guard, and she stopped. “You’re going to interfere?” she said, narrowing her eyes.</p><p>“No!” Now Yao was the one acting as if he were explaining something obvious. “You’re right that the others are going to do some stupid things. The best we can do is to try and offset suspicion. I’m going to vouch for you—two of us would make it more convincing, would it not?”</p><p>Normally, this was the point where Natalya would have dismissed the other as an idiot and stalked off. If it were anybody else, she absolutely would have done just that. But China... she had to admit, she didn’t hate him. In fact, their relationship could even be called cordial. And she knew very well that he was no fool.</p><p>In any case, it didn’t look like Yao was going to be easily deterred at this point, whether Natalya wanted him there or not. He’d already started to walk ahead of her, though something in his gait had changed slightly: its leisurely bounce had disappeared, replaced now with a stride full of purpose. Natalya silently slipped forward to match his steps. Side by side, neither saying another word, they weaved through the dimly torchlit corridors with Natalya guiding the way until, finally, they found themselves standing outside of Amycus Carrow’s office.</p><p>Yao frowned slightly when he realised where they were. “Shouldn’t we be talking to the headmaster? Isn’t he the one in charge of things around here?”</p><p>“I’ve already gone. He’s not there. And...” A twinge of displeasure flashed across Natalya’s face. “In any case, I would like a word with this one in particular.”</p><p>She rapped her knuckles firmly against the wooden door.</p><p>“Yeah?” came a gruff voice from inside, which the pair took as an invitation to enter.</p><p>A peculiar stench hit them as soon as they stepped inside. Starlight winked through ceiling-high windows that lined the far wall, but even their iridescent glints couldn’t enliven the dark atmosphere of the room. Empty flasks, scraps of parchment and various knickknacks cluttered every available surface, strewn across tables and piled haphazardly on shelves. A stack of battered books stood in one corner: <em>Medieval Dark Arts</em>, <em>Curses for the Stone-Hearted</em>, <em>The Comprehensive Grimoire of Torture Spells</em>...</p><p>“Oh, it’s you,” the professor grunted from his seat at the desk, raising his eyebrows at the nations. “Whaddya want? I’m supposed to be on night patrol soon, so you better make it snappy.”</p><p>“We would just like to have a quick word with you,” Natalya said. “First of all, I don’t know if you have met him, but this is my comrade, Yao Wang from the People’s Republic of China.”</p><p>“Charmed,” Amycus said, eyeing the other man as though he were an insect he found squished under his shoe. “Get to the point, will ya?”</p><p>“Well, you see,” Yao said, “we’re very impressed with what we’ve seen at this school so far.” He kept his tone steady, trying to ignore the very unnerving human skull that grinned at them from the windowsill. “Surely once we get word back to our own governments, your work here will pave the way for similar revolutions across the continent and even across oceans. And so, in return for providing us with such valuable doctrines, we would like to repay you.”</p><p>That last part succeeded in catching Amycus’ attention. He leaned back, his narrowed eyes flitting back and forth between his two visitors. “Repay us... how?”</p><p>“Information,” Natalya said simply. “We control entire countries, and we can help you control these students in the same way. One needs nothing more than a basic understanding of human nature.”</p><p>A frown wrinkled his expression, but still he gestured for her to continue, which the nations took as a good sign since he was actually listening to what they had to say. Without wasting a second, Natalya continued her explanation, with Yao skillfully improvising from her cues; he was astute enough to pick up that she was trying to curtail the violence in her own way.</p><p>Unfortunately, Amycus did not appear entirely convinced.</p><p>“Look,” he cut in aggressively midway through, “this is starting to sound like a load of tripe. What good is it if all the whelps do is put curses on rats?”</p><p>“You’ve seen what happens if you try to force their hand,” Natalya said calmly. “Fear paralyzes them, more so than it drives them. They cannot bring themselves to harm their friends. Start with a smaller action, one that may be uncomfortable but still achievable, and you will ensure their obedience for much greater acts in the future.”</p><p>Amycus leaned an elbow against his desk and snorted.</p><p>“There’s one more thing,” Yao said. “As you know, we represent our respective countries’ governments. We are here on political business. But we are here only to learn and observe, not to get involved in whatever conflict our host country may be having. What would happen if people found out that we participated in hurting civilian children? Nothing less than revolt, and all the ideals and propaganda we bring back to our home countries would be discredited.”</p><p>“Do not doubt that we are wholly sympathetic to your cause,” Natalya added, “but if its influence is to expand beyond the borders of this country, it will be crucial to keep up an image of integrity, at least until all opposition has been eliminated.”</p><p>“All right, all right,” Amycus said, looking increasingly impatient as he rolled his eyes. “If you lot are too uptight to do any dirty work, fine. Your loss. But,” he snarled, leaning forward, “that don’t mean <em>we’re</em> gonna stop what we’re doing. And if you even think about meddling or getting in our way—I don’t give a bleeding rat’s arse who you are—I’ll make damn sure you’ll be booted out by morning, y’hear?”</p><p>An inkling of worry nagged at the back of Yao’s mind, but Natalya remained as unruffled as ever. “You are misunderstanding,” she said, perfectly composed in the face of Amycus’ irritation. “All we are saying is that violence is not always necessary. One must be smart about exerting authority.”</p><p>“You calling me stupid?” Amycus snapped.</p><p>“I work for the government. It is my job to deal with mindless masses such as these, to find ways to influence people. We came here in search of intelligence to bring back to our own countries—it would only be fair for us to offer the same to you.”</p><p>A tense silence fell over the two, but neither tore their gaze from the other. Yao could see Amycus’ jaw working as he struggled to comprehend their words.</p><p>“Go take it up with Snape,” he growled at last. “If you’re so bent on doing it, you three can work out all that hoity-toity influence crap by yourselves. Meanwhile, I ain’t gonna change my methods. Cruciating the troublemakers, that’s been working just fine for me.”</p><p>He glanced impatiently at the clock on the wall. “We done here? I don’t wanna hear any more of your government rubbish, so unless you got something else to say, I suggest both of you get the hell out.”</p><p>Natalya hesitated, debating whether or not to continue pressing the issue. Before she could make a decision, however, Yao nodded, quickly took her by the arm, and pulled her towards the door. She made no effort to resist. As soon as they stepped out, the door swung shut behind them with a heavy thud, and she allowed him to continue leading her away from the office until it was no longer in sight. That was when she freed herself from his grasp.</p><p>“You gave up,” she said, turning to face him. There was no discernable emotion in her voice, but everything from her expression to her folded arms radiated cold disappointment. Yao immediately flared up in defence.</p><p>“I did <em>not</em>,” he said, sounding offended at the very notion.</p><p>“You didn’t even try to convince him after he refused.”</p><p>“Because,” Yao said, beginning to pace, “I know when it’s smarter to withdraw from a battle than to continue fighting for a lost cause.”</p><p>Natalya’s glare was growing icier with each word. “You believe our being here is a lost cause?”</p><p>“No, of course not!” Yao shouted so loudly that several portraits around them jumped. “But that kind of manipulation isn’t going to work here. This isn’t some kind of political chess game. Don’t you see, Belarus?” He threw his hands up, and even Natalya couldn’t suppress a hint of alarm at his tone. “They don’t <em>care</em> anymore. The school’s been taken over, the war’s been won here as far as they’re concerned. They don’t care about keeping up appearances.” He thought of the Ravenclaws’ stories and how the Carrows threw around punishment with disturbing nonchalance. Now he could understand why. “They can do whatever they want. There’s no need for them to hide.”</p><p>Natalya remained very still for a few seconds. Then she tilted her head, as if her ears had caught a faint noise that escaped Yao’s notice. “I am returning to my common room,” she said shortly, turning away from the elder nation. “Take care not to get caught out here.”</p><p>And she began walking away until, yet again, she was stopped in her tracks by Yao, who gripped her wrist urgently.</p><p>“Don’t push it, Belarus.” All traces of his usual lively demeanor had vanished, and more than ever he looked like the time-worn nation haunted by ghosts of his long, bloody past.</p><p>She shook him off. Without sparing another glance at him, Natalya left him standing alone in the middle of the corridor, as he wondered what on earth he should do next.</p>
<hr/><p>Matthew had started counting his own breaths. It kept his mind occupied and reminded him that he was still conscious.</p><p>
  <em>One hundred twenty-five... one hundred twenty-six...</em>
</p><p>His fingers twitched weakly against the empty glass in his hand. Water was the only sustenance he’d been given over the past few days, delivered to his dingy, locked cellar every few hours by a house-elf named Dobby.</p><p>In an odd way, Dobby was both talkative and not. He chattered amicably every time he came and seemed genuinely worried about the Canadian’s plight, but whenever Matthew tried to coax information out of him, the elf would immediately clam up in horror. When pressed, he could only splutter out a few unhelpful words before going off to slam his head against the wall.</p><p>After the second time, Matthew stopped trying.</p><p>
  <em>One hundred twenty-seven... one hundred twenty-eight...</em>
</p><p>The chains on the door rattled and slowly drew open, startling him. He barely had enough strength to lift his head, but he heard the hinges creak, and dim yellow torchlight spilled from the corridor into the room.</p><p>In stepped Severus Snape.</p><p>He shut the door behind him, blanketing them both in gloom once more. For a moment, the two men remained quite still: Matthew from his position slumped on the floor, Snape from his vantage point towering over him. The headmaster fixed a piercing black gaze on him, and all of a sudden Matthew felt strangely vulnerable.</p><p>Silent seconds ticked by. He wished the other man would say something. He didn’t come here just to stare at him menacingly, right...?</p><p>At last, Snape’s low, haughty voice drifted from the shadows. “When did you finish your last drink?”</p><p>Matthew’s voice was distant as he replied, and his eyes clouded over in an emotionless trance. “A few minutes before you came. Dobby brought it to me half an hour ago, but I wasn’t thirsty at the time.”</p><p>Satisfaction flitted across Snape’s face and he moved in closer. The tip of his wand flared with a white glow of light, illuminating the expression of his captive. “Good. Now then...” He wasted no time getting to the point. “Why did you come to Hogwarts?”</p><p>The answer slipped out automatically. “To help England. I don’t really know how yet, but I do want to do something.”</p><p>It was a strange way to phrase it, Snape noted. “Where does your true allegiance lie?”</p><p>“With my people.”</p><p>“And precisely who is that?”</p><p>“The people of Canada.”</p><p>A glint of irritation flashed in Snape’s eyes. Was this man trying to be clever with him?</p><p>He continued, iciness permeating every word: “Are you working for the Order of the Phoenix?”</p><p>“I don’t know what that is.”</p><p>“Were you acquainted with Albus Dumbledore?”</p><p>“No, not personally. I’ve heard stories about him though.”</p><p>“Do you serve a higher power?”</p><p>“The Prime Minister of Canada. Jean Chrétien, at the moment.”</p><p>The venom in Snape’s expression could have killed. He did not have the patience to talk around in circles all night.</p><p>If he was not a Death Eater, nor an Order member, nor one of Dumbledore’s pawns...</p><p>“What exactly are you?”</p><p>“I am Canada.”</p><p>Snape stared.</p><p>“And what,” he asked slowly, “do you mean by that?”</p><p>“It means that I am a nation. The very embodiment of my country.” And through his monotonous tone, Matthew spoke with a note of finality that suggested this was the simplest, most obvious explanation he could give.</p><p><em>But it doesn’t explain anything. </em>How could a person possibly <em>be</em> a country? Unless he meant in a metaphorical sense, being a national representative...</p><p>Snape ground his teeth in frustration. He felt like he had the answer right in front of him, yet was completely missing it at the same time, for he hadn’t the faintest idea how to parse the other man’s bizarre words.</p><p>
  <em>Perhaps he took precautionary measures against Veritaserum and is deliberately feeding me nonsensical answers... or he may simply be delusional.</em>
</p><p>He knelt down in front of Matthew, forced his chin up with his wand, and stared intently into the Canadian’s tranced eyes.</p><p>All at once, his mind whirled through memories of unfamiliar places: the Hufflepuff common room... the dark, burnished walls of the Ministry... a clock tower perched atop a gently sloping hill... and then there was a huge room with a lofty, arched ceiling, vibrant stained glass windows and muted green carpet, and sitting next to him was an elderly man with neatly combed grey hair, dressed formally in a speckless Muggle suit—</p><p>The man began speaking, but to Snape’s frustration, the words came out in rapid, incomprehensible French. The Matthew in the memory replied in kind; the Muggle man sighed and glanced back down at the topmost letter on the pile of documents in front of him, and Snape caught the words “ministre de la Magie” in long, looping script...</p><p>And then he found himself in another room, where Matthew was seated at a huge, crowded table, his arms folded and mouth twisted in frustration. Sitting beside him was the obnoxious American representative, whose irritated gaze flickered between Matthew and the Chinese representative that Snape recognised from Ravenclaw. He looked around: there was that blonde Russian from his own House, Braginsky... over there was Beilschmidt... Bonnefoy... Kirkland?</p><p>“<em>For the last time, America,</em>” Matthew said tersely, “<em>I’m not going to cut ties with Cuba just because you say so... and I really think we should talk to China</em>—”</p><p>“<em>Not until he quits calling me an imperialist!</em>”</p><p>“—<em>because these embargos of yours are really winding him up and it’s not helping...</em>”</p><p>The scene changed again... a muddy trench... a burning white building... a ship deck rocking beneath his feet, stormy waves crashing against a wooden hull, and there was Kirkland again, pacing in front of him, dressed in a crimson coat slicked with rain and clutching a bayonet...</p><p>The further Snape delved, the less familiar the world seemed, until he was lost in a blizzard of white, and he could just barely see a tiny blonde child being cradled protectively by Bonnefoy, who hardly looked any different from how he was today... but that was impossible, the age difference between Williams and Bonnefoy couldn’t be more than a few years...</p><p>With an enormous effort, Snape pulled himself back to the dark, musty cellar, feeling a rather throbbing headache coming on. Never before had he been so exhausted performing Legilimency on anyone; and yet, he sensed that he wasn’t even close to penetrating the full depths of this strange man’s memories.</p><p>He stared down at Matthew, whose face was screwed up in discomfort through the haze of Veritaserum. <em>Yes, it isn’t nice to have your mind broken into, is it?</em></p><p>Snape pressed his lips together, tightened his fingers around his wand, and forced his way back in.</p><p>Longbottom, Weasley, and Lovegood on the Hogwarts Express... a robe shop in Diagon Alley... an unfamiliar, warmly lit office—</p><p>“<em>Hogwarts?</em>” It was another suited man, this one donning a thick, long woollen robe whose hem brushed against his shoes. He was frowning faintly. “<em>Why a school, if this</em>—<em>this Dark Lord person is the one you’re after?</em>”</p><p>Matthew shrugged. “<em>Apparently Harry Potter is at Hogwarts</em>. <em>England says he's important to keep alive, but he's just a kid, so he’ll need all the help he can get.</em>”</p><p>“<em>I see. Well, it doesn’t matter to me</em>—<em>it’s your Muggle prime minister that has the final say, anyway. So what do you want me to write?</em>”</p><p>“<em>We need to convince the British Ministry that we’re going to bring their regime overseas...</em>”</p><p>The office faded away around him, and Snape abruptly stood up, breathing hard. Finally, something useful. He and Williams shared a common goal, it seemed... pity, Snape thought with a leer, that Potter had decided not to show his face at school this year.</p><p>This was the most he could have hoped for. Days of imprisonment, assault, and even the Cruciatus Curse had accomplished nothing; it was either the same excuse they had heard from the Ministry, or simply dead, maddening silence. But Snape had gotten the information he wanted in the end, while the Carrows remained ignorant.</p><p>With stiff movements, the headmaster strode forward, uncorked a vial he had withdrawn from his pocket, and forced Matthew’s head back to dump the liquid none too gently down his throat. He paid no attention to the other’s strangled spluttering.</p><p>Within a few minutes the choking noises died out and the trance evaporated, leaving a very dazed Canadian blinking up at him.</p><p>“I will leave the door unlocked,” Snape said coolly, turning away with a low sweep of his cloak. “You have one hour before curfew is in effect.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Counterplay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oi! Snape!” Alecto crashed into the headmaster’s office without so much as a warning, and Snape glanced up, unimpressed, from the archives he’d been poring over. “That representative in the dungeons, he’s <em>gone</em>! Went to go check on him just now and he’s just upped and disappeared, not a bloody trace left or anything!”</p><p>“I know,” Snape said calmly. “It was I who released him.”</p><p>Alecto’s eyes bulged. “You <em>what</em>!?”</p><p>“Last night I interrogated him using the strongest Veritaserum in my possession. Following that, I did not see a reason to keep him captive any longer.”</p><p>“Aw, hell! Why didn’t you tell us!” She leaned on his desk and drummed her fingers impatiently, earning herself an undisguised look of annoyance. “So, what’s the news?” she pressed eagerly. “If it was Veritaserum, you must’ve gotten <em>something</em> outta him!”</p><p>Though Snape had his back to Dumbledore’s portrait, he knew the striking blue eyes were fixed on him as he answered.</p><p>“No, nothing. Williams’ testimony matches what we heard at the Ministry. He did not mention anything particularly new or noteworthy.”</p><p>Alecto hissed and threw up her hands. “<em>Damn it</em>! That’s just brilliant, innit, all that work and we’ve gotten effin’ nowhere! Now what are we gonna do?”</p><p>Snape cast her a withering glance, as though the answer was obvious. “We carry on as usual. The school will continue to run, regardless of these... unforeseen circumstances.”</p><p>“So we’re not gonna tell the Dark Lord—”</p><p>“The Dark Lord is several countries away, and we were given explicit instruction not to summon him for anything less than Potter himself.” Idly, Snape picked up a piece of parchment and a quill from his desk, clearly intent on ending the discussion. “You may be assured, however, that I will not be leaving the matter as is.”</p>
<hr/><p>“You <em>WHAT</em>?!”</p><p>Madam Pomfrey’s head popped out from behind the privacy curtain that had been drawn around Matthew’s bed, and she skewered Arthur with a glare that would have made the flowers on the nightstand wither and die. “Might I remind you that this is a <em>hospital wing</em>, Professor,” she scolded him. “If you’re going to disturb my patients’ rest, I’ll have to insist that you leave.”</p><p>Arthur had the decency to look contrite. After mumbling an apology, which only elicited a tut and a shake of the head from the strict matron, he waited until Madam Pomfrey disappeared again before turning back to Matthew and lowering his voice to a whisper.</p><p>“You have got to be <em>fucking</em> joking.”</p><p>Matthew shifted uncomfortably under his sheets, and he chanced an uncertain glance at the Brit sitting by his bedside, who looked about ready to throw something across the room. Between himself and Alfred, Matthew was always heralded as the more sensible brother, but now here he was, admitting that he was the one who spilled their secret before September was even over.</p><p>“Sorry, Arthur,” he murmured, dropping his gaze guiltily again. “He used that truth-telling potion on me, and then he read my mind... he’s good at it too, I wasn’t expecting—”</p><p>“I don’t blame you, lad,” Arthur said, though his words were spoken as if he were wrenching them out through gritted teeth. “We’re dealing with one of the Dark Lord’s right-hand men here. No doubt he’s a master at extracting information to which he has no right.”</p><p>“If it’s any comfort,” Matthew added flimsily, “he didn’t seem to understand when I told him what we really are.”</p><p>Arthur closed his eyes and let out a harsh sigh. “Let’s hope it stays that way then. Honestly, I never would have expected you of all people—”</p><p>“I know, I know.” The Canadian’s voice were muffled as he buried his face into the blanket. Finally, he looked up once more, toying feebly with a stray lock of hair. “But I mean, it’s usually hard for humans to wrap their heads around what we are... and it doesn’t seem like he’s done anything about it yet, so that’s a good sign.”</p><p>“I always wonder where you get your optimism from,” Arthur grumbled.</p>
<hr/><p>A few days later, the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors found an unexpected but welcome sight at the start of their Transfiguration class.</p><p>“<em>Mattie</em>!” Alfred’s yell of delight was louder than the clatter of all his books hitting the ground, and he sprinted to his brother’s side to yank him into a hug. “Man, I was getting real worried about you, where did you—hey, what’s wrong?”</p><p>Matthew seemed drained of all energy, and even the joy of getting noticed first could only bring a small, strained smile to his face.</p><p>“Nothing,” he said quietly. “It’s nice to be back.”</p><p>This made Alfred frown, but as he pulled back to admonish the other for his bland response, a flash of scarlet caught his eye. Matthew was quick to cover it up, but not quick enough; with a brute tug, the American yanked his brother’s hands away to reveal scores of healing welts and faded burn marks scattered across his collarbone.</p><p>“Al, don’t make a scene,” Matthew muttered, taking advantage of Alfred’s moment of stunned silence to try and placate him. Only for Alfred to completely disregard his words and explode mere seconds later:</p><p>“What the <em>HELL</em>, man! Who did this to you!? Are there more? You got more hiding under there, don’t you? Don’t tell me it was those Carrow people! I knew it, I just <em>knew</em> it, I swear to fucking god I’m gonna kick both their asses—”</p><p>“<em>Al—</em>” Matthew’s eyes flitted to the doorway where McGonagall had appeared, looking quite ready to castigate whoever was making such a ruckus in her classroom.</p><p>“Is there a problem, Mr Jones?” she asked.</p><p>Alfred whirled around furiously. “How about you take a look at my brother, and you tell me if there’s a problem!”</p><p>With a start, Feliciano noticed that Seamus and Parvati had both stood up and were glaring at Alfred, clearly ready to defend their teacher from his yelling. Feliciano frantically got to his feet as well, hoping to restore peace, but Parvati threw him off with an indignant look when he tugged at her sleeve.</p><p>McGonagall, however, did not seem the least bit perturbed. She cast her gaze over Matthew’s wan face and listless posture, and she merely raised her eyebrows.</p><p>“Have you gone to see Madam Pomfrey already, Mr Williams?”</p><p>“Eh? Oh, yes... yes, I have,” Matthew said. “She kept me under observation last night, so I think I’m fine now.”</p><p>McGonagall nodded. “That will do, then. If you feel unwell at any point, you may be excused and return to the hospital wing.” And with that, she strode away to take her place at the front of the classroom.</p><p>“Seriously Al, don’t worry about it,” Matthew added emphatically as Alfred glared daggers at McGonagall’s back. But before the American could continue his tirade, he was interrupted by Ernie, who pushed past him as he made his way to Matthew.</p><p>“It’s good to see you back, Mr Williams,” Ernie said, grabbing his hand in a firm handshake. “Are you really all right though? Some of the other representatives said that you were being...”</p><p>“Tortured?” Matthew said tiredly. Ernie hesitated a fraction of a second before nodding, and the Canadian repeated himself once more, trying to inject strength into his voice even though he could hardly muster any. “Honestly, it really is nice of you guys to worry about me, but I promise, everything’s fine now.” He paused, then added in a low, warning murmur: “Just... don’t get on the Carrows’ bad side, okay? In case you’re thinking about doing something reckless. I’d rather not have anyone else go through the same thing...”</p><p>Hearing these words made Alfred swell up like an angry bullfrog, and he immediately stormed out of the classroom, snarling threats under his breath. Matthew rushed after him before anyone else could react.</p><p>“Al, <em>please</em>,” he said as he stumbled down the empty hallway after his brother, fully aware that Alfred was on his way to beat up both Carrows, if not murder them with his bare hands.</p><p>“Nuh-uh, you’re not gonna be a goody-two-shoes about this!” Alfred only stopped when Matthew caught him by the arm, and he whirled around to shake him off. “Nobody does that to my bro and gets away with it! They’re gonna regret coming after us, I gonna make them wish they were never—”</p><p>“You’re going to ruin this whole thing is what you’re going to do,” Matthew cut in firmly, grabbing Alfred by the shoulder before he could take off again in a temper. “You know more than anyone what I’ve been through before. I can take it.”</p><p>“Just because you <em>can</em>—”</p><p>“Look, this isn’t a game where you can just storm in and punch your problems away. We’re here for Arthur, remember? It hasn’t even been a month and you’re basically going to declare war on them by attacking them.”</p><p>“You say that like it’s a bad thing! Plus, they attacked us first!”</p><p>“What use is it if we all get kicked out tomorrow, and it turns out I went through all that for nothing? You get to have your five minutes of glory just to mess things up for the rest of us? I don't think so. This isn't about <em>you</em>, you know.”</p><p>Matthew raised his eyebrows as Alfred glowered at him. Alfred glanced over his shoulder a few times, clearly debating whether or not to listen to his more level-headed brother; then eventually, he heaved a sulky sigh and yanked him into a hug, his whole body still shaking with anger. “Fine—have it your way this time. But you tell me if they ever look at you the wrong way again, okay?”</p><p>Matthew exhaled in relief and returned the hug. “Thanks, Al.”</p><p>When the two traipsed back into the classroom, every head turned towards them, but no one said a word. McGonagall rapped her wand sharply on the teacher’s desk, signalling for the class to start. When Alfred hesitated, clearly still unhappy with his heroic revenge plan being stopped in its tracks, Matthew gave his brother a light push towards his seat. For a moment Alfred looked like he was going to protest, but seeing Matthew’s reproachful expression was enough to convince him to bite his tongue and flop irritably into his chair.</p><p>As usual, McGonagall’s class was devoid of any whispered chatter or covert note-passing. Without gossip to fuel the students’ curiosity, the excitement behind Matthew’s reappearance dwindled fast; it seemed all but forgotten by the time the period ended, and the students streamed out with hardly a fuss over the newly returned Canadian.</p><p>“You guys go ahead,” he muttered to the other nations as everyone began to disperse for lunch.</p><p>“No way, I gotta look after you!” Alfred declared. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to the dining place! The hero’ll catch you if you fall!” To emphasise his point he clamped an arm around Matthew’s shoulders, but with a colossal effort Matthew managed to squirm out of his grip.</p><p>“I’m not hungry, and there’s no way you’re going to be able to handle skipping a meal,” he pointed out. “Seriously, you go eat. Don’t worry about me, I’m going to go take a nap or something... I’ll see you tomorrow.” And he slipped away into the crowd before Alfred could catch him, ignoring the American’s loud whining behind his back.</p><p>Head bowed inconspicuously, Matthew threaded through droves of people making their way to the Great Hall, going against the flow of the crowd. Occasionally he would bump into someone’s shoulder by accident, but the most reaction he got was a peculiar glance. Otherwise, people left him well alone, allowing him to keep walking until the crowd had thinned out and his languid footsteps echoed in the space of a quiet, empty corridor. Despite what he told Alfred, he wasn’t really in the mood to sleep. He just wanted to get away for a while.</p><p>
  <em>I gotta look after you.</em>
</p><p>A resentful grimace passed over Matthew’s face. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so dismissive of Alfred, obnoxious as he was, because ultimately he meant well... but Matthew simply couldn’t shake the memory of everyone staring down at him, regarding him with varying degrees of <em>pity</em>.</p><p>He had to admit—he was avoiding the others, Alfred in particular. It was enough that he felt insignificant as a nation, perpetually living in his brother’s shadow; he didn’t need to be coddled as well. If he couldn’t even take care of himself, then what the hell <em>could</em> he do?</p><p>“Mr Williams?”</p><p>Matthew gave a start, jolted out of his bitter thoughts, and he glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, hello,” he said, recognising the speaker as the blonde girl from the Hogwarts Express. “Sorry, your name was... Luna, I think? I remember we met on the train.”</p><p>“Yes, it’s lovely to see you again,” Luna said, catching up to him with light, perky footsteps. “Are you going out for a walk?”</p><p>“Eh?”</p><p>“You’re heading in the direction of the grounds.”</p><p>It took a few seconds for Matthew to realise that, indeed, the corridor they were standing in led out of the castle to a vast expanse of green. He’d been so out of it that he hadn’t noticed where his feet were taking him.</p><p>“I assumed you simply weren’t ready for lunch yet,” Luna continued. “Sometimes I do the same thing. Taking a stroll can really help with working up an appetite.”</p><p>“Ah, no, that’s not it.” Matthew roused up enough energy to give her a polite smile. “I’m just... tired more than anything. And I wasn’t really paying attention to where I was going, so I ended up here.”</p><p>Not for the first time, he found himself under the scrutiny of impossibly huge, grey eyes. Matthew was about to insist yet again that he was <em>fine</em>, thanks, when Luna’s face suddenly brightened and she nodded sagely.</p><p>“I told Ginny and Neville you’d be all right,” she said, much to Matthew’s confusion. “But still, I think a walk would help. Some of the sights around the school are quite refreshing. Personally, I’m fond of the lake, especially if the Giant Squid shows up... also, I’ve read that chewing raw hydrilla stems can help with lethargy, so perhaps if you ask nicely the squid can fetch you some—”</p><p>“Thanks, Luna,” Matthew interrupted gently, “but, um, I think I’ll pass this time. And besides, I... kind of have stuff to do.”</p><p>“Oh? What’s that?”</p><p>He fiddled with the brown leather strap of his bag. “If you remember Kumakuro, my polar bear... he’s gone missing. The Carrows took him away before my questioning session and didn’t give him back.”</p><p>Much to his relief, Luna didn’t fuss over his mention of the Carrows, nor even his use of the term ‘questioning session’. Instead, she tilted her head thoughtfully to the ceiling, and when she next spoke there was a surprising note of seriousness in her normally whimsical tone. “Well, Hogwarts doesn’t have anything like a menagerie, so... I’d say it’s more likely they gave him to Hagrid or Professor Kirkland.” Her gaze drifted back downwards and she pointed out towards the school grounds. “Hagrid’s house is right down the hill there. I wouldn’t mind accompanying you, if you’d like to go ask him about it.”</p><p>After a moment's consideration, Matthew shrugged and nodded.</p><p>Knots of dry, untrimmed grass grazed against their ankles as they loped down the steep path towards Hagrid’s hut. A thin wisp of smoke trailed up from the slightly crooked chimney; someone was definitely home. They passed the garden where Hagrid’s pumpkins dotted the ground with fat spots of orange, made their way up to the front door, and Luna knocked with a few light taps on the wood.</p><p>Deep, guttural barks sounded from inside, followed by a gruff “down, boy!” and heavy shuffling of feet. The door swung open. Somehow, Hagrid seemed even taller than Matthew remembered, now that they were standing face-to-face.</p><p>“Oh, hullo,” he said, peering down at his two visitors. “I know yeh—Luna Lovegood, if I remember right?”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” Luna said. Hagrid’s eyes then turned to Matthew, who quickly offered out a hand to shake.</p><p>“Ah, I don’t think we’ve formally met. I’m Matthew Williams, representative of Canada.”</p><p>The distrust on Hagrid’s face was obvious, even more so as he shook Matthew’s hand and released it just as quickly. “Yer not here ter dig aroun’ in my business, are yeh?”</p><p>“No, not at all,” Matthew said, hoping he sounded reassuring enough. “This is just a... a social call, you could say.”</p><p>“Off the record,” Luna added with a pleasant nod. It was her words that managed to convince Hagrid: after a momentary pause, he turned back inside while beckoning them to come in.</p><p>“Oh, I don’t think we’re staying for long...” Matthew trailed off as Luna followed Hagrid into the house and perched herself on the arm of a creaky plush sofa in the centre of the room. A giant black dog trotted over to her and placed its head in her lap, slobbering all over her robes, though Luna appeared to ignore this and patted it softly on the head. Meanwhile, Hagrid busied himself by rummaging through his cupboard for teacups, and he waved a massive hand dismissively.</p><p>“Don’ worry about it, I don’ get visitors a lot anymore. Now that—” He stopped and glanced at Matthew, then cleared his throat. “Yeh know—we’re missin’ a few people, it’s bin mighty lonely down here. I could grab yeh a few rock cakes if yer wantin’ summat to eat, by the way.”</p><p>“No, I’m all right, thank you,” Luna said. “Mr Williams?”</p><p>Even from the name alone, Matthew wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what a ‘rock cake’ tasted like. “I’ll pass as well,” he said politely, though he did relent in joining Luna on the sofa. “I don’t want to impose on you too much.”</p><p>Both of them also turned down Hagrid’s offer for tea, and so the gamekeeper ended up bringing out just a single rose-patterned teacup and matching saucer for himself.</p><p>“So,” he grunted, plopping down at the dining table, all the while being careful not to spill anything, “did yeh want ter talk about about somethin’ in particular, or were yeh jus’ stoppin’ by ter say hello?”</p><p>“We wanted to ask you a quick question,” Luna said. “You see, Mr Williams has a pet polar bear, but Professor Carrow took him away. We were wondering if you might know where he is.”</p><p>“Polar bear?” Hagrid echoed. He paused to think and take a huge gulp of tea. “Nah, can’t say I’ve seen anythin’ like that. Though I’ll bet my hat he’s wanderin’ round the Forbidden Forest somewhere—that’s where those Carrows dump creatures they got no use for. The same happened ter Beaky and all the rest of ‘em when I got sacked.” His tone of voice turned surly at the end, and he plunked his saucer down with a rather forceful clatter.</p><p>“I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” Luna said curiously. “Did they mention why they sacked you?”</p><p>“Hell if I know,” Hagrid growled. “That Umbridge woman always had summat against me. S’pose it was just a matter of findin’ a proper replacement, then they were more than happy ter boot me... what’s that Kirkland bloke got that I don’t anyway, huh?”</p><p>“They probably like Professor Kirkland's teaching style better," Luna said, casually rubbing Fang around the ears while he drooled happily. “There's a lot that's changed at the school this year.”</p><p>“Yeah, sometimes I get the feelin’ that Hogwarts isn’t the place I used ter know anymore. Dark Arts makin’ their way into classes, ruddy Dementors crawlin’ all over the place—even those foreigners now,” Hagrid added, entirely forgetting that Matthew was still in the room, “swoopin’ in all of a sudden and gabbin’ on about inspections, just like that old hag. Bit dodgy, don’t yeh think? I don’ know about them, ter be honest with yeh. For all we know they might be in the same boat as those Carrows, sent in by You-Know-Who.”</p><p>Matthew began to scuff his shoes against the floor, but Luna appeared completely unbothered.</p><p>“Oh, I don't think so,” she said. “They seem like nice people when I talk to them.”</p><p>Hagrid’s expression shifted to one of concern. “Hey, you be careful now, all right? Don’t go mixin’ with the wrong sorta folk, or yeh might find yerself in a whole lotta trouble.”</p><p>“Thank you, I’ll make sure to remember that,” Luna said pleasantly, standing up. Matthew quickly followed suit.</p><p>“Yer goin’ off already?” Hagrid asked, his expression falling in disappointment. “It’s hardly bin a couple o’ minutes.”</p><p>“Yes, I don’t think the teachers would appreciate it if we stayed out here for too long. But it was nice talking with you.”</p><p>Hagrid grunted and got up to open the door for her. “You too. Make sure yeh bring the others down here nex’ time, eh? Would enjoy the company.”</p><p>Luna nodded and gave him a cheerful wave, then stepped out with Matthew trailing closely behind.</p><p>Their walk back to the castle was quiet for the most part. Periodically, Matthew would glance sideways at his companion, who had her face tilted just slightly towards the sky, her expression blithe and absentminded as ever. It was nice to hear that someone believed in the nations’ good intentions, but at the same time... there was still a tiny shadow of doubt that lurked in the back of his mind, one he couldn’t quite dispel.</p><p>“Hey, Luna,” he said all of a sudden. Her attention floated back to the present and she looked up him with a bright, questioning gaze. “Um, about what Hagrid said back there, with us representatives being trouble...”</p><p>“I do stand by what I told him,” Luna said confidently. Matthew wondered if perhaps she sensed that he wanted a bit of reassurance. “There’s nothing I’ve seen that might suggest you’re on the Carrows’ side. Unless, of course, you all happen to be infested with Body Snatching Slugworms.”</p><p>“So—you don’t think we’re dangerous?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Are you?” came the vague and entirely unhelpful reply. But before Matthew could figure out how to respond, she continued, “I certainly hope not. I think I’d quite like to be friends with you.”</p><p>By the time they returned to the corridor from which they left, it was no longer empty.</p><p>“Well now, what’s this?” Malfoy drawled, walking towards them with Francis loping casually at his side. “A student sneaking out of bounds unsupervised? This calls for punishment, I believe.”</p><p>“Aren’t you out of bounds too, if you’re here?” Luna said, unperturbed.</p><p>“Might I remind you I’m a <em>prefect</em>, Lovegood,” Malfoy said smugly, fingering the badge that glittered on his robes. “Lucky for you, I’m in a charitable mood, so I’ll only take ten points from Ravenclaw today.”</p><p>“Now, now, Monsieur Malfoy,” Francis tutted lightly, “let us not get petty.”</p><p>“As if you’re above pettiness yourself,” Matthew deadpanned under his breath. Francis put a hand over his heart in feigned hurt.</p><p>“Ah, you wound me, Matthieu!”</p><p>It was only then that Malfoy seemed to notice there was a fourth person present. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, casting Matthew a brief, disinterested glance. “What are you doing with Lovegood?”</p><p>“Er, we were looking for my pet bear,” Matthew said, a bit put off by Malfoy’s less-than-diplomatic attitude. “But apparently he’s lost in the Forbidden Forest, and I’m not sure how to get to him...”</p><p>Malfoy raised his eyebrows, and his expression awakened like a wolf that had just detected the scent of blood in the air. “Well, normally teachers don’t let anybody go in there unless it’s for detention,” he said knowingly. “There’s no other option, really, if you’re that desperate to find your little beast.”</p><p>For a fleeting moment, Matthew thought about the possibility of getting into trouble on purpose. If what Malfoy was saying was true, and that really was the only way of getting into the forest... but as much as he wanted Kumajirou back, he wasn’t stupid.</p><p>“I think I’ll just ask the headmaster for special permission to go look for him,” he said at last, shrugging. For a moment he could have sworn that Malfoy’s face twinged with disappointment. Was the kid expecting him to do something more reckless?</p><p>Matthew shook his head. He was <em>not</em> Alfred, no matter what everybody seemed to think.</p>
<hr/><p>Snape’s eyes flickered up when the door to the headmaster’s office creaked open. The voice that greeted him from the darkness was not one he was expecting at all.</p><p>“Good evening,” Arthur said, stepping smartly into the glow of the kerosene lamp burning on the desk.</p><p>“Kirkland.” Snape’s tone was impassive, and he didn’t bother moving from his chair. “Do you have business with me?”</p><p>“As a matter of fact, I don’t,” Arthur said coolly. “Rather, I was wondering if I could have a private word with Albus for a few minutes.”</p><p>Snape’s sallow face soured. “You presume to send me out of my own office?”</p><p>“Rather audacious of me, I know. But yes.”</p><p>“And what,” Snape said softly, “will you intend to do if I refuse?”</p><p>Arthur did not answer, but instead shifted his attention to Dumbledore’s apparently sleeping portrait on the wall behind the headmaster’s chair. Snape, too, cast a dubious glance over his shoulder. That was when Dumbledore cracked open his eyes, the corners crinkling in delight as he laid his gaze on the bushy-browed nation.</p><p>“Do allow us the luxury of conversation, Severus,” he said pleasantly, though his eyes remained on Arthur. “So many things have transpired since Arthur and I last spoke, and some of them, I confess, are quite sensitive topics of discussion... not to mention, I would hardly want to force you to sit through the stodgy ramblings of two old men.”</p><p>Snape looked at Dumbledore with an expression remarkably like contempt. “Is this another secret you intend to keep from me?” he asked at last, bitterness lacing every syllable. When Dumbledore gave no response except a small, benign smile, Snape rose reluctantly from his seat and skulked around the desk towards the door. “I will give you ten minutes,” he said icily.</p><p>Arthur watched, eyebrows raised, as the headmaster disappeared like a snake into the shadowy corridor. “Thank you, Albus,” he said, turning back to the portrait. “Honestly, I’m surprised that prick still listens to you.”</p><p>“Severus and I have a rather personal history,” was the simple, not-at-all-explanatory response, and Arthur waited for some sort of elaboration, but it never came.</p><p>Eventually, he sighed and decided just to move on. He’d learnt long ago that getting a straightforward answer out of Albus Dumbledore was like trying to teach ballet to a mountain troll. “Sorry for interrupting your rest.”</p><p>“There’s no need to concern yourself with such things,” Dumbledore replied. “After all, our demand for sleep is not as dire as when we were living. But what brings you here at a time like this?”</p><p>Candid as always, Arthur didn’t bother beating around the bush. “I’m sure Professor Snape has already told you about our visitors.”</p><p>“Ah, yes. They seem to be quite a handful.” Dumbledore sounded amused, even though Arthur was certain that Snape would not have painted the nations’ antics in such a positive light. “You are, I presume, well-acquainted with them?”</p><p>“Unfortunately so,” Arthur said. “To be honest, I’m the reason they’re here in the first place. Not because I wanted them to come!” he insisted defiantly, and then ranted something about “world meetings” and “out of control idiots” under his breath.</p><p>“Oh dear,” Dumbledore said, chuckling. “I do recall you making similar complaints about these same colleagues many, many years ago... though it is reassuring, I must say, to know that some things do not change so easily.”</p><p>“‘Reassuring’ isn’t exactly the word I’d use,” Arthur groused. “You’re not the one who has to deal with their stupidity all the time. And by the way,” he added, realisation suddenly striking him, “I hope you haven’t told Snape about that. What we really are, I mean. I’d rather not have Death Eaters getting ahold of that information.”</p><p>Dumbledore’s eyes seemed to twinkle as they always did, even through the portrait’s waxy sheen of paint. “My dear friend, why on earth would I share a secret that is not my own?”</p><p>“Just thought I’d mention it,” Arthur said, paying no mind to the other portraits who were listening curiously. “You know they’re trying their damnedest to dig up shit about us. That’s why I came up here at this ungodly hour, actually—time isn’t something we can waste. So I wanted to ask you a few things.”</p><p>“Might I guess that you and your colleagues are here to assist in protecting the students of Hogwarts?” Dumbledore said.</p><p>“Well, that was the idea, yes,” Arthur said. “I was told by Miss McGonagall that this was supposed to be Harry Potter’s final year at school. But then again,” he conceded as an afterthought, “it probably wouldn’t have been wise for him to return in any case. Not with this ridiculous new regime.” He paused, but when there was no response, he took this as a cue to press further. “Since Potter clearly isn’t here, if you happen to know his whereabouts or how I can get in contact with him, I’ll see if I can send somebody to assist—”</p><p>“Thank you, Arthur,” Dumbledore interrupted gently. “But that will not be necessary.”</p><p>“Why the hell not? Chosen One or not, he’ll need all the support he can get if he’s going to take down the Dark Lord. And speaking of which, how exactly is he supposed to do that? I know you’d taken special interest in the boy these past few years, surely you gave him some sort of plan?”</p><p>“That,” Dumbledore said, “is for Harry to know, and Harry alone.”</p><p>Undisguised impatience crossed Arthur’s face. “Fat lot of help that is, seeing as we haven’t got a clue where he might be right now.”</p><p>“That simply means he's still alive, does it not?”</p><p>Arthur halted. It was true; the defeat of the Boy Who Lived would no doubt be paraded all over the papers, the final death knell to whatever spark of hope that still remained among rebels. When it came to Harry Potter, no news was good news.</p><p>“Even so—”</p><p>“Arthur.” Dumbledore’s voice was firmer now. Arthur wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he had a distinct sense that his friend was trying to pacify him. “Your decision to come back and protect the school is admirable, and I commend you for it. But if you are looking to have a personal hand in the matter, I’m afraid you simply cannot help.”</p><p>“I’m not useless, you know,” Arthur snapped, his eyes narrowed in an exasperated glare. “Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking child.”</p><p>This elicited a chuckle from the bespectacled man. “How could I imagine doing such a thing, when you are so many moons older than I?”</p><p>“Oh, for the love of... you haven’t gotten any less infuriating, you know that?”</p><p>“Why, of course. I am merely a portrait, after all, incapable of change.”</p><p>“You know bloody well what I mean.” Arthur fell silent for a moment. When he next spoke, the edge had dropped from his voice. “Still, I wish I could have talked to you one last time, before... well.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Suppose it doesn’t matter now. It’s just—I still feel like a sod for not doing anything to help the first time round.”</p><p>“You had other issues on your mind,” Dumbledore said simply. “I daresay your duties in the Muggle world kept you busy enough.”</p><p>The only reply he received was a small, acquiescent grunt. A long silence stretched between them, until finally Arthur heaved a sigh and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I’m wasting my time here, aren’t I?” he growled. “You’re not going to tell me a damn thing.”</p><p>“Have faith in Harry, Arthur,” Dumbledore said. “That is all I can ask of you.”</p><p>It took every fibre of Arthur’s willpower not to snap back. Frustration was boiling inside him. He was a former empire, accustomed to having strict, iron-fisted control even in the most chaotic of situations; and now, that precious control was slipping rapidly out of his hands.</p><p>But he wasn’t going to spend the rest of the night standing here, wrestling with the maddening vagaries of a painting.</p><p>“Fine. You bastard,” Arthur said with a petulant scowl, and he turned militarily on his heel to take his leave. “Quite frankly, I don’t know how you think a single teenager is equipped to save the whole bloody country, but I hope for all our sakes that he knows what he’s doing.”</p>
<hr/><p>Those kids were up to something.</p><p>Elizabeta had noticed Ginny and Neville whispering together quite frequently as of late, and every time she spotted them during break time, they were always huddled with Luna in some secluded area of the castle. Some days she wouldn’t see any of them at all from morning until the latest hours of the night, far past curfew.</p><p>But she didn’t get a chance to broach the subject until days later, when another, much more explosive incident pushed it to the forefront of their minds.</p><p>“Hi, Miss Héderváry,” Neville greeted her as he and Ginny approached her in the common room one night.</p><p>“Ah, Neville, Ginny, good timing!” Elizabeta scooted over to make room for them on the cushions. “I wanted to talk to you two.”</p><p>“About what?”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sure you both know exactly what.”</p><p>Their reactions could not have contrasted more starkly: while Neville shuffled around bashfully, Ginny’s face broke into a keen, impish smirk. Elizabeta took this as confirmation that the two had something to do with the incident that happened earlier that very evening: halfway through a relatively peaceful dinner, Amycus Carrow had come storming into the Great Hall, bellowing at the top of his lungs, his expression ablaze with fury.</p><p>
  <em>“All right, ya little brats, who’s the one that did it!?”</em>
</p><p>It was like yelling into a void. His words echoed emptily off the walls as he swept his gaze across the frozen crowd, brandishing his wand in a menacing gesture.</p><p>Professor Flitwick was the first to speak. <em>”Did what, if I may ask?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“I’m talking about the corridors, ya midget! Or is your vision stunted as well as your height?”</em>
</p><p>Indignant outcries rippled along the Ravenclaw table, but they were quickly subdued by the dangerous glare that Amycus shot them. Flitwick, on the other hand, seemed unruffled.</p><p><em>“Oh, you’re talking about the names on the walls,”</em> he squeaked, rather cheerfully in the face of Amycus’ anger.<em> ”Just a childish display of vandalism, it seems. I thought it would’ve been cleaned up by now.”</em></p><p><em>“Don’t bullshit me!”</em> Amycus snapped. <em>”‘Remember Cedric Diggory’? ‘Support Harry Potter’? Childish my arse, I’m not bleedin’ stupid, you know!”</em></p><p><em>“Could’ve fooled me,” </em>Seamus muttered. A jet of light abruptly slammed into his face and he yelled, throwing up his hands to cover his suddenly blistering cheeks. Amycus rounded on him like a predator, his wand flickering between Seamus and the rest of the startled Gryffindors.</p><p><em>“You got the gall to open your mouth, ya little brat? Better start talking then!”</em> When there was still no response, he added in an impatient snarl,<em> ”If nobody’s gonna say nothing, I’ll Cruciate every first-year in this room ‘til someone fesses up!”</em></p><p>That was when McGonagall spoke up, cutting into his tirade with a voice of cold, stern authority. <em>”Don’t you think you are overreacting, Professor Carrow?”</em></p><p>He whirled around. <em>”Excuse me?”</em></p><p><em>“Simple grafitti is hardly an offence worth such drastic measures. Or,”</em> she added, <em>”if you’re concerned with the work involved in cleaning it, you may be assured that it won’t be a problem. Mr Filch has seen far worse in his time, I can guarantee you.”</em></p><p>Amycus tossed a furious glance at Snape, but the headmaster made no movement to contradict her. Instead, he appeared almost disinterested as he finally spoke as well:</p><p><em>“Certainly, there is no need to get so worked up over petty vandalism. However,”</em> he continued coldly, his black eyes lingering on the Gryffindor table in particular, <em>”let this be a warning to the perpetrators, and to those who may be inspired to follow in their footsteps... you </em>will<em> be found. And you will be punished accordingly.”</em></p><p>“... At least, that’s what he said,” Elizabeta commented, drawing the conversation back to the present. “But it seems they still haven’t caught the culprits.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, I don’t think most of the teachers are trying very hard,” Ginny said with a satisfied snicker. Indeed, none of the staff aside from the Carrows had said a single word about the incident, and when Elizabeta passed the vandalised corridor later, it seemed there had been no effort to scrub the paint off. On the contrary, she could have sworn someone had gone out of their way to refurbish it with a fresh, shiny coat.</p><p>“Forgive me for being blunt,” Elizabeta said, “but you two played a part in this, didn’t you? And your friend Luna as well?”</p><p>Ginny didn’t even hesitate before nodding, a bold, proud gesture which matched the smirk on her face, while Neville squirmed slightly on his cushion.</p><p>“I hope it wasn’t too obvious,” he said.</p><p>“Oh, no, I think you’re fine.” Elizabeta flashed them a smile in return, not at all reproachful as Neville was obviously expecting. “It’s only because I noticed you three acting very secretive lately, and I was beginning to wonder why.”</p><p>“Ah.” Neville hesitated. “Well... you’re only half right there. See, we’ve been planning something even bigger—that’s why we came to talk to you, actually.” He glanced over at Ginny, then took a deep breath. “We wanted to ask... if we could make use of your representative status.”</p><p>“Make use of my—pardon me?”</p><p>“Basically, we need a diversion,” Ginny said. “After seeing what those Carrows will do for the smallest thing, we don’t want to risk anybody getting punished for stirring something up on purpose. You though, you’ve got official duties to take care of here, don’t you? Interviews, inspections, something like that?”</p><p>A flicker of hesitation broke Elizabeta’s composure. “Yes, something like that.”</p><p>“Could you keep Snape out of his office for, let’s say, fifteen minutes? Out of all our options right now, you’d probably attract the least amount of suspicion.”</p><p>“Hang on a moment,” Elizabeta said, a faint crease appearing in her forehead. “So you want me to keep the headmaster away from his office... and what exactly are you planning on stealing?”</p><p>“We—” There was a disconcerted pause as Neville processed Elizabeta’s words. “How did you know...?”</p><p>“It isn’t that hard to guess. Oh, I’m not going to tell anyone, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Elizabeta clarified quickly when she saw how their expressions turned wary. “At least, I hope I won’t have to. I want to be on your side. But it must be something valuable if you’re going to risk a heist like this.”</p><p>“Yeah, I expect Snape won’t be too happy about it,” Ginny said, in a tone that suggested she couldn’t care less about what would please the headmaster or not.</p><p>“And do I get to know what this thing is?”</p><p>“That’s not important.” Ginny spoke with such stubborn finality that Elizabeta thought it wise not to pry any further, even though she wasn’t at all satisfied with the answer she got.</p><p>“All right, fine. So... are you sure distracting the headmaster will be good enough?” she asked instead. “What will you do about the other teachers patrolling the corridors?”</p><p>“We’ll just hope for the best, I suppose,” Neville said with an uneasy shrug.</p><p>“You’re taking a rather big risk of getting caught.”</p><p>“With a bit of luck, we’ll be fine,” Ginny said. “It’s only the Carrows we really have to worry about, and maybe Filch too.”</p><p>“Oh! Well, that’s perfect then, isn’t it?” Elizabeta said, perking up. She pointed over to the other Gryffindor nations chatting together by the fireplace. “There are four teachers and four of us. We can each distract one while you children go do whatever you need to do.”</p><p>“Wait, hang on!” Ginny cut in, throwing up her hands in alarm. “Who said <em>they</em> were going to be helping us?”</p><p>“If this is a trust issue, there’s no need to worry,” Elizabeta assured them. “Those three are just as opposed to the current regime as we are. I’m fully willing to put my faith in them.” Under normal circumstances, she knew that uttering those words were dangerous. Nations were at the mercy of their people’s whims and had to be prepared to turn on one another at any moment; many had lost track of the former allies they had threatened, betrayed, invaded and attacked. Under normal circumstances, they knew better than to let their emotions overtake their duties.</p><p>But these weren’t normal circumstances, and this time, she wasn’t speaking as Hungary, but rather as Elizabeta. When they were here, thrown in the midst of a very human struggle between the forces of good and evil, she even surprised herself with how easily those words slipped out of her mouth.</p><p>“I still don’t like the idea,” Ginny muttered. “We only chose you because of what you said to us a few weeks ago. Even if those other three aren’t on You-Know-Who’s side, we can’t be sure that they’re on ours either.”</p><p>Elizabeta pursed her lips. “You’re a doubtful one, aren’t you?”</p><p>“This is war,” came the sharp retort.</p><p>“Yes, and I can’t fault you for being cautious. But I think there would be worse consequences for getting caught, especially by those who are already known to be Dark Lord supporters. And forgive me for saying so, but it’s rather naïve to deny the possibility of this plan going awry. As it stands right now, you’re relying far too much on luck to pull it off.”</p><p>There was a long, solemn pause.</p><p>“I think she’s got a point,” Neville said at last.</p><p>Ginny threw him a surprised look, and Neville leaned in to whisper something in her ear, keeping his voice low so that his words blended indistinctly with the muted chatter around them. Evidently he managed to convince Ginny to go along with Elizabeta’s proposal, as she pursed her lips in resignation when they pulled apart. “Fine,” she said.</p><p>“If it’ll ease your mind, we don’t have to tell them the reason for the diversion,” Elizabeta suggested. “We could just ask them to keep the teachers in a certain part of the school for a few minutes.”</p><p>Neville nodded. “Yeah, I think that would be better,” he said. “So, erm... should we go talk to them right now?”</p><p>“Yes, let’s,” Elizabeta said.</p><p>It was Feliks who first noticed the trio approaching, and he immediately brightened up from his slouched position in his chair. “Hey, Liz!” he called out.</p><p>“Hi, Po. Could we have a little chat?” Elizabeta wasted no time in getting to the point, and her voice promptly took on a firm, businesslike tone. “We came to ask you all for a favour. You two included,” she added loudly, cuffing both Alfred and Yong Soo on the head when they continued to talk over her.</p><p>“Ow!” they yelped simultaneously.</p><p>“Geez, calm your tits, lady,” Alfred complained, rubbing the assaulted spot on his skull.</p><p>“You must have no idea what I’m like when I’m <em>not</em> calm,” she said, bristling at the American’s choice of words. Then she caught Neville’s eye, sighed, and loosened her fists. “Let’s try this again. We need you three to do us a favour.”</p><p>“Whenever hyung says that to me, it never means anything fun,” Yong Soo commented.</p><p>“Er, I don’t know who ‘hyung’ is,” Neville said, “but I’m sure this won’t be too difficult. We were hoping you lot could have a talk with the Carrows after class.”</p><p>“Yo, no problem,” Alfred said immediately. “Those bastards can have a talk <em>with my fist</em>—”</p><p>“For heaven’s sake, you can’t beat up a teacher!” Elizabeta snapped.</p><p>“Stop trying to be all high and mighty,” Alfred said, rolling his eyes. “Gilbert’s told me what you’re really like—”</p><p>“Oh, <em>has he now</em>?”</p><p>“What do you mean by ‘talk’?” Yong Soo cut in as Elizabeta’s voice began to crackle with ferocity. “About what?”</p><p>“About whatever you government lot came here to do,” Ginny said. “Shouldn’t you have <em>something</em> to say?”</p><p>“Uh...”</p><p>“Our visit isn’t structured, but I’m sure we can improvise,” Elizabeta said, cutting her glaring contest with Alfred in an effort to curb her temper. “There’s also another teacher—what was his name?”</p><p>“Filch,” Neville said, “but he isn’t really a teacher, he’s the caretaker. It might be a bit hard to track him down, he’s usually lurking around the corridors looking for troublemakers.”</p><p>“Ooh, you mean like pranksters?” Yong Soo said excitedly. “If you want a distraction, I can do that job! Too bad Hong isn’t here, we used to pull the best pranks on hyung.”</p><p>“Er, that’s not really what we—”</p><p>“I’m all for pulling a prank,” Feliks said, “but can we do it on someone else? This Filch person will probably, like, reek of toilets or something nasty. I’m not going near that.”</p><p>“We’re not pulling any pranks,” Elizabeta said sharply. “That’ll just draw the headmaster’s attention and that’s the last thing we want.”</p><p>“I’ll take care of that guy then!” Alfred declared, snapping to attention at the mention of Snape. “Still got beef with him about that thing with Mattie—”</p><p>“Oh, lord.” Elizabeta rolled her eyes. “Please do not turn this simple diversion into a revenge spree—”</p><p>“Aw, c’mon. You seriously think my self-control is that bad?”</p><p>“Yes,” the other three nations chorused at once. Alfred shot them a look of childish betrayal.</p><p>“Look, don’t worry about it,” he insisted. “It’s up to the hero to take care of the boss! Yong Soo, Feliks, you guys be my backup and deal with those Carrow bastards! Elizabeta, you can take the janitor!”</p><p>Indignation flashed across her face. “Why am I relegated to—”</p><p>“I mean, no offence to you, Héderváry-ssi,” Yong Soo said, “but those teachers are already super pissed off with you.”</p><p>“Yeah, like, you wouldn’t even get two words in before they’d bite your head off,” Feliks added helpfully.</p><p>“I think they’d do more than that,” Neville muttered, but his words were smothered by Alfred’s boisterous shout, as though the American were back in a world meeting trying to be heard over a dozen bickering nations, rather than a single meek teenager.</p><p>“Cool! So we got that settled? You guys!” He pointed at Ginny, Neville, and Elizabeta, the latter of whom was looking as though she were second-guessing her decision to involve the other three in the first place. “Just say the word when you need us, ‘kay? Man, we should totally play the James Bond theme in the background, it’d be perfect to set the mood—plus he’s British and everything!”</p><p>Ignoring Ginny and Neville’s looks of utter bemusement, Alfred slammed a hand down on the table with such force that he nearly upset a bottle of ink. “All right team, we’re gonna kill this! In the name of justice, let us <em>unite</em>!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Diversion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alfred was used to people not listening to him. Hell, it was the same pattern for every world meeting: nobody ever listened to anybody else, even the hero who had such great ideas all the time. But it didn’t bother him too much, because whatever America did would be felt by the rest of the world sooner or later. If others wanted to argue or scoff or try to talk him down, then hey, more power to them.</p>
<p>Being flat-out ignored, on the other hand, as if he were shouting at a brick wall—that happened significantly less often. Whether or not people cared about what the American had to say, usually his voice was loud enough that they couldn’t shut him out even if they wanted to.</p>
<p>Severus Snape was turning out to be a special case. And that was a <em>problem</em>.</p>
<p>“... I mean, corporal punishment’s fine and all, but you don’t have to beat them up for every little thing! Plus, not being allowed to talk about Harry Potter at all? Look, I get it, some of my—our schools are pretty strict too, but freedom of speech, man! It’s important!”</p>
<p>Snape glided coolly through the corridors, giving absolutely no reaction to the man following him and ranting over his shoulder. Alfred gave a loud harrumph; this distraction was not working out the way he wanted. He’d managed to drag the headmaster out of his hidey-hole of an office and into a classroom some distance away, but as soon as Alfred launched into his speech about justice and how Snape was doing things <em>totally wrong</em> around here, Snape didn’t even bother giving a rebuttal before he turned around and walked off. Alfred had even drawn a pie chart on the chalkboard and everything! The old bat wasn’t even going to <em>look</em> at it? Rude.</p>
<p>He didn’t really have a Plan B, because duh, Plan A wasn’t supposed to fail. But at the very least, he needed to distract Snape from going back and catching the kids in the middle of their heist.</p>
<p>Easier said than done.</p>
<p>“... and you heard what they did to that girl, Ginny Weasley, right? I mean, <em>Cruciatus</em>? Seriously? The whole school knows about that, there’s no way you can just brush that off, unless you’re ignoring it on purpose! C’mon,” his voice rose to a shout, “don’t you even <em>care</em>? Or are you just a coward—”</p>
<p>Snape abruptly stopped and whirled around, his black eyes glinting.</p>
<p><em>Finally!</em> Alfred drew himself up, seizing his chance now that he’d managed to crack the man’s composure at last. “Ha! You <em>are</em> a coward,” he repeated loudly. “‘Cause if you’re gonna bow down to the dark side without even fighting—”</p>
<p>There was a bang and Alfred’s voice was suddenly extinguished. Snape kept his wand raised, pointing dangerously at the American’s throat.</p>
<p>“You <em>dare</em>—?” he hissed.</p>
<p>Alfred stood still for a split second, then he made a lightning quick grab at the other’s wrist. To his surprise, his fingers caught nothing but air; another bang and an invisible force seemed to suspend every muscle in his body.</p>
<p>“I am not like the Muggles you are so accustomed to dealing with,” Snape said coldly, stepping out of Alfred’s reach. “It would do well for you to remember that you are in a world of magic now. Your physical ability—” he lifted his chin in contempt “—imposing as it may be... means nothing when you can be frozen with a simple word.”</p>
<p>All of a sudden, shouts erupted from somewhere above them, followed by an odd, trembling sound like a rumble. Snape tensed up, his expression alert, and he stalked off towards the staircase to investigate. Fuming, Alfred tried making a motion to follow him, but his limbs were still locked in place, refusing to budge.</p>
<p><em>Aren’t you gonna let me go!?</em> he thought furiously, unable to do anything but glare at Snape’s back. It wasn’t until Snape reached the top of the steps that he seemed to remember the American’s existence, and he released him with a careless flick, without even bothering to glance back.</p>
<p>“Boy, what a jackass,” Alfred muttered, immediately breaking into a run to catch up with him.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The Ravenclaws stepped out of Charms and straight into mayhem.</p>
<p>“What in the...” Yao halted at the doorway and stared. Fragments of parchment were swirling through the hallway, slipping into open rooms, flying out windows, burying students and staff alike in a thick paper blizzard. When he looked closer, he realised that these weren’t ordinary bits of parchment: every single piece was folded into a small, flying origami bird.</p>
<p>“Whoa.” Anthony stopped next to Yao and whistled. “What happened?”</p>
<p>A paper bird swooped in on Yao’s head and he ducked. “I have no idea,” he said, raising his voice over the deafening flutter of wings around them. “I can only imagine somebody’s spell went horribly wrong.” Considering the nature of the birds, he would have pointed the finger at Kiku, but Yao expected him to have better control than that—not to mention Kiku had been in class with him for the past two hours.</p>
<p>Not far down the corridor, Amycus Carrow was hopping around in a rage, waving his wand quite ineffectually.</p>
<p>“<em>Evanesco</em>! <em>Evanesco</em>, damn it! Why won’t they bloody disappear? You!” he roared, pointing at Flitwick, who had also come out to investigate. “Help me get rid of these damned things!”</p>
<p>“Are your Vanishing Spells not working, Professor Carrow?” Flitwick squeaked, paying no mind to the bird that suddenly swooped down and began to attack Amycus’ hair.</p>
<p>“Argh, gerroff me!”</p>
<p>Amycus jabbed the parchment violently with his wand, and both bird and hair burst into flames. The Death Eater yelled; seconds later, a large jet of water from Flitwick hit Amycus in the face, choking off his expletives but managing to douse him before he could set the entire hallway alight.</p>
<p>Yao stared. “Did he just—”</p>
<p>“Set fire to his own hair, yeah,” Anthony said, struggling to hold back laughter.</p>
<p>“Honestly,” Yao muttered as they scurried away from the soggy, spluttering professor. “Who on earth thought it was a good idea to let that fool teach?”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Shit, where’d he go?”</p>
<p>Alfred tore through the halls, squinting through the mess of flying parchment that choked every bit of space he could see. He didn’t think Snape got <em>that</em> much of a head start—but then again, he wasn’t counting on someone’s chaotic paper bird diversion to get in the way. He didn’t even know who was responsible for this mess. In hindsight (and he could almost hear Arthur’s derisive scolding in his head), maybe it would have been a good idea to <em>talk</em> about their plans beforehand, instead of having everyone charge off to do their own thing.</p>
<p>Pacific blue eyes scanned the scene, sharp and vigilant as though he were standing amidst gunfire. The headmaster’s greasy black hair was nowhere in sight.</p>
<p>Alfred hesitated for a fraction of a second, then whirled around and ran back to the stairs.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The storm of parchment birds had sent the entire third floor into disarray. Students no longer filed from their classes in stiff, orderly lines, but scattered every which way as they took advantage of the Carrows’ distraction and their temporary freedom.</p>
<p>Snickering to himself, Yong Soo emerged into a deserted area of the courtyard, his blood still rushing with exhilaration from pulling off a successful prank. Okay, so maybe he had gone a little overboard—certainly more than a simple talk as Ginny, Neville, and Elizabeta had suggested—but it was fine as long as it did the job, right?</p>
<p>“Im Yong Soo!”</p>
<p>The Gryffindor nation skidded to a halt. Behind him was Yao, looking none too pleased as he hurried to catch up to him.</p>
<p>“Hey, hyung!” Apparently Yong Soo waved a little too flippantly, because Yao planted his hands on his hips as soon as he stopped next to him.</p>
<p>“Don’t ‘hey’ me!” Yao said sternly. He gestured up to the third floor, where the sounds of rustles and frantic shouts carried out the window to the grounds below. “What on earth is going on?”</p>
<p>“Oh, you mean the birds?” Yong Soo laughed. “They’re magpies! Pretty cool, huh?”</p>
<p>“‘<em>Cool</em>’ you say—they’re causing such mayhem, even the teachers are having a hard time getting things under control!”</p>
<p>In contrast to his brother, Yong Soo seemed to find the whole thing hilarious. “Of course, that spell was invented in Korea! There’s no way they’re gonna get rid of them without knowing the Korean counterspell!”</p>
<p>“So <em>you</em> were the one responsible?” Yao yelped with mixed incredulity and fury. “<em>Yong Soo</em>—”</p>
<p>“I had a good reason for doing it!” Yong Soo said hastily, recognising Yao’s tone as a prelude to a long lecture. “It wasn’t just for shits and giggles this time—”</p>
<p>“Yong Soo, language—”</p>
<p>“What? America says it all the time, and besides, I’m not a kid anymore, I can do what I want—”</p>
<p>The door next to them suddenly flung open and hundreds of birds came streaming out, filling the air with the din of countless fluttering wings. For a few seconds they circled above the courtyard, a stormy mass of brown and beige, before scattering themselves to the air and blowing away into the vast grey sky. Yao and Yong Soo watched wordlessly as the last few stragglers flitted out of the open doors and high above the stone walls, only to be picked up by a strong, merciless wind and carried out of sight.</p>
<p>Both of their gazes lingered on the sky after the birds had gone, but it didn’t take long for Yao to snap his attention back to Yong Soo. “So,” he began again rather ominously, and Yong Soo offered him a small, silly grin, something he’d always done to appease his brother whenever Yao had caught him misbehaving as a child. Yao faltered momentarily at the sight, but he quickly shook his head and drew himself up like the authority figure he so very desperately tried to be.</p>
<p>“South Korea, this is neither the time nor the place to play around,” the elder nation said harshly. “Clearly you don’t understand the gravity of the situation—”</p>
<p>“Oh, come on, I’m not stupid,” Yong Soo cut in, this time with genuine annoyance in his voice. “Why do you old people always think that?”</p>
<p>“That’s not what I said at all!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you did.” Yong Soo rolled his eyes, earning an indignant glare from Yao. “I mean, sure, I do like to have fun. But I’m not just gonna screw around while kids are getting hurt and having their faces cut up, I actually want to do something to help!”</p>
<p>“And you think making a ruckus like this will accomplish anything?”</p>
<p>“Like I said, I had a good reason!”</p>
<p>“Don’t speak to me in that tone of voice! I can’t imagine what could be a ‘good reason’ for this nonsense—”</p>
<p>“Just <em>trust</em> me!” Yong Soo beamed at him with the most ingenuous face he could muster. “This is just a means to an end! We’re gonna set things right around here, you’ll see!”</p>
<p>Those particular words reminded him of a certain other nation. Realisation dawned, and Yao narrowed his eyes. “That stupid American is involved somehow, isn’t he?”</p>
<p>“No, why’d you say that?” Yong Soo tilted his head in feigned innocence, but Yao wasn’t buying it.</p>
<p>“Aiyaa, why are you children all so foolhardy?” he lamented and, ignoring the protests he received in response, he grabbed the other nation by the wrist and began pulling him back towards the castle. “Come on, you both need to <em>apologise</em> for this mess you’ve made!”</p>
<p>“Hyung!” Yong Soo whined. “Could you stop being such a stick in the mud? Look, I don’t even know where Al is right now!”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, he just shouted something about a heroic speech and ran off! No idea where he was headed.”</p>
<p>“Oh, for the love of...” Yao buried his face in his palm, muttering exasperated Chinese prayers under his breath. What sort of reckless idiocy did Alfred have in mind this time?</p>
<hr/>
<p>All the portraits jumped as the door to the headmaster’s office crashed open. In catapulted a certain blond American, his hair tousled and his cheeks flushed from sprinting up three flights of stairs.</p>
<p>“Guys, I lost him! You gotta run, quick—”</p>
<p>Alfred halted and his jaw fell open. In the corner of the room was a large glass case with a hole smashed violently through the centre, its jagged edges gleaming, and tiny glittering shards scattered at its base and across the floor. Next to it laid a heavy brass lamp, taken from its original position on the desk and thrown haphazardly down after its job was done. There was nobody else in the room. From the wall, dozens of bemused paintings stared speechlessly at this new intruder.</p>
<p>“Looking for someone?”</p>
<p>Alfred whirled around. It took him a few seconds to find the source of the voice, perched high on a shelf above the headmaster’s desk: the Sorting Hat sat with its pointed top tilted slightly downwards, and though it had no eyes, Alfred got the sense that it was peering down at him.</p>
<p>“Oh, uh... yeah, kinda.” Alfred scratched the back of his head, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Gee, I didn’t know you were sentient. No offence.”</p>
<p>The Hat let out a dry chuckle. “It’s true that we did not have a conversation back in the Great Hall. Your placement was far too obvious. Although,” it mused as an afterthought, “that may have been because of your age. Many of your associates had far more in the minds to sift through.”</p>
<p>“Aw, man, don’t tell me you can read minds too,” Alfred said. The Hat made a small humming noise that might have been in amusement. The lack of facial expression made it hard to tell.</p>
<p>“It was a novel experience, at the very least, so I must thank you all for that.”</p>
<p>“No problem!” Alfred wasn’t entirely sure what he was being thanked for, but he flashed the Hat a beaming grin and a thumbs-up anyway. “You did a pretty good job, dude. I mean, I think you made a few teeny mistakes here and there, but whatever, no biggie.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” Now it was the Hat’s turn to be surprised. “You believe I was mistaken in the Sorting of your colleagues?”</p>
<p>“Some of them, yeah.” Alfred ticked them off on his fingers. “Like Feliks, he’s a major ditz so Hufflepuff would’ve been better for him. Toris too—he’s not dumb, for sure, but he’s kind of a pushover, y’know? And Natalya, she should have been in Slytherin ‘cause she has that evil kind of vibe—it’s super obvious, I can’t believe you missed that. You did good with the commie bastard though.”</p>
<p>While processing Alfred’s suggestions, the Hat scrunched slightly, as though it were creasing a non-existent forehead. “Interesting...” it said at last. “With the experience you have, I would have expected that to enlighten your mind a bit.”</p>
<p>Alfred blinked. “What?”</p>
<p>“It is true, the young ones tend to see the world in black and white,” the Hat continued as though it hadn’t heard Alfred at all. “Would you still be considered young? Perhaps, given what you are... hmm, perhaps...”</p>
<p>Suddenly, the door behind Alfred swung open and he whirled around, one hand gripping his wand and the other balled into a ready fist. A combative smirk flitted across his face upon seeing Snape enter the office. “Oh hey, there you are! Finally caught up, huh, slowpoke?”</p>
<p>Snape stared impassively at him, and then his frosty gaze flickered down to the broken case behind him.</p>
<p>“Severus,” Dumbledore’s portrait said, as though reminding him of something.</p>
<p>“I know,” Snape said curtly, and he turned on his heel to leave—but not before freezing Alfred in place once more, then binding him with tight, black ropes so that he couldn’t escape.</p>
<p>“Wha—freakin’ <em>again</em>? C’mon, you can’t just leave me like this!” Alfred yelled after Snape’s retreating back.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“We should have thought this through more carefully,” Neville moaned, stumbling half a step behind the girls as they raced up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower. “Seriously, how are we going to send this thing to Harry?”</p>
<p>“We’ll figure something out!” Ginny said fiercely. She gripped the sword in her hands even tighter. Now that they’d gotten hold of it, they were <em>not</em> going to lose it. “We can hide it in the dorms for now—Harry might try to contact the Order, so if we can just get it to Mum and Dad—”</p>
<p>“Miss Weasley!”</p>
<p>The trio nearly collided into Professor Slughorn at the top of the staircase. He halted in his tracks, forehead crinkled in bemusement at the sight in front of him.</p>
<p>“Oh, hello, Professor!” Luna said pleasantly. “What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>“I should ask you three the same,” Slughorn said. His eyes landed on the sword, and visible shock dawned on his face. Neville’s heart sank. They didn’t plan for this! They could try to slip past him, but he could easily immobilize them in a second—</p>
<p>“We’re doing this to help Harry Potter!” Ginny burst out, to Luna’s mild surprise and Neville’s utter panic. Even the nearby portraits turned around, alarmed. “If you care about that, then let us through!”</p>
<p>Slughorn looked just as taken aback, his eyes wide and his mouth opening without a sound coming out. Ginny seized the chance to bolt forward and shove past the stunned professor without looking back. After a beat, Luna followed suit, leaving Neville to bring up the rear. He threw an apology over his shoulder as he hastened to catch up.</p>
<p>“Ginny, wait!” Luna grabbed at Ginny’s arm in an attempt to slow her down, only to be met with a blazing look of urgency.</p>
<p>“Luna, we don’t have time!”</p>
<p>“I know, but we can’t go to the dorms!” At her companions’ confused expressions, Luna pointed to an empty portrait stationed further down the corridor. “The man in that painting overheard you, and he left almost immediately. He could have gone to tell Professor Snape—”</p>
<p>“So what?” Ginny said impatiently. “We can outrun him!” She tried to pull the other two further towards Gryffindor Tower, but Neville put out a hand to stop her.</p>
<p>“Let’s trust her, Ginny,” he said.</p>
<p>Ginny heaved an aggravated sigh. “All right, but where the hell else can we go?”</p>
<p>“We’re on the seventh floor,” Luna observed, and she began hurrying in the opposite direction of the tower. After exchanging a dubious glance, Neville and Ginny quickly followed. Neville kept throwing skittish glances behind him, expecting Snape’s greasy hair and bat-like figure to catch up to them at every corner, and his legs felt like jelly as they ran through the corridor—a very familiar corridor.</p>
<p>The three nearly collided when Luna halted all of a sudden. “We just need a room to hide this in, don’t we?” she said, and she promptly began walking back and forth in front of a certain spot on the wall.</p>
<p>“Of course!” Ginny beamed.</p>
<p>“Good thing you can still think clearly under pressure,” Neville said, but the relief in his expression instantly died when Slughorn’s voice rang out through the halls. From where they stood, his words were faint but still quite audible, as though he were speaking louder than usual.</p>
<p>“Professor Snape! What’s got you in such a hurry now?”</p>
<p>“Luna!” Neville squeaked, and just then a door materialised in front of them. The girls quickly dashed into the room. Heart leaping in his throat, Neville hurtled himself after them and yanked the door shut behind him.</p>
<p>Instantly, he slid to the floor, listening to his own heavy breathing and the pounding of blood in his ears. The door to the Room of Requirement vanished behind them.</p>
<p>For a few moments, everything was still. The sound of their panting seemed to be swallowed by the sheer expanse of clutter around them: old, heavy broomsticks, piles of broken chairs, chains and jewels and a glittering tiara hanging off the bust of a warlock, scattered books from <em>A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration</em> to <em>Advanced Potions-Making</em>, even suits of golden armour with layers of dust covering their metallic sheen. A desolate air of abandonment hung over the room like cobwebs hanging from the corners of pillars, clinging to every inch of history that had been piled and forgotten here.</p>
<p>“We did it.”</p>
<p>Ginny’s voice was breathless with triumph. She stared down at the sword, a grin spreading across her face as she turned the polished silver blade over in her hands... then, abruptly, she stabbed it into the floor with a laugh that made Neville jump. “<em>Ha</em>! Snape’s never going to get in here! Now all we’ve got to do is wait until the coast is clear, then sneak back and figure out a way to send this out of the castle.”</p>
<p>“Oh, it would be lovely if we could send a message with it,” Luna said. “I’ve been wondering how those three are doing.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Neville agreed fervently from the floor. Incredibly, despite the terror that was still coursing through his veins, he now found himself suppressing the urge to laugh, and for the first time in what felt like ages, his expression broke into a faint but genuine smile. “Yeah... it’s all right, we’ll find a way. Somehow. We’re already halfway there—we can’t let them down now.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Forbidden Forest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alfred scowled at Snape, who stared back with his usual impassive face, no doubt scheming something in the silence. It was so annoying being trussed up like this. If Alfred were able to stand, he’d tower over this old coot! But no, he had to sit there on the floor of the headmaster’s office, glaring up at Snape while he waited for the axe to fall.</p><p>“Are you planning to interrogate me or something?” Alfred said obnoxiously. “’Cause I promise you, I’ve been through way worse than anything you’re gonna throw at me.” A vague memory of Arthur warning him about the Cruciatus Curse popped up in the back of his mind, but, cocky as ever, Alfred brushed it off. Sure, he’d never actually felt the curse before, but of course he could take it! It couldn’t be <em>that</em> bad, right?</p><p>Snape, however, did not end up giving him his first taste of the Cruciatus Curse. He didn’t raise his wand at all; instead, he merely pressed his thin lips together and looked down at Alfred with an expression remarkably like contempt.</p><p>“Where is the sword?” he asked coldly.</p><p>“Oh, is that what was in there?” Alfred said, glancing over his shoulder at the smashed glass case. “No wonder you’re pissed. Too bad though, I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to.”</p><p>Snape swooped upon him like a bat. “<em>Do not lie to me</em>,” he hissed.</p><p>“I’m not! What do you even think I’d do with it, stab someone?” Alfred rolled his eyes, undeterred by the threatening way Snape was leaning over him. “We both know how well that’d go.” Besides, Arthur would kill him if he tried to steal an artifact from his precious school, and Alfred wasn’t really raring for a repeat of 1812, thanks.</p><p>Snape gave him a swift, piercing look, not unlike the one Francis sometimes had when the perceptive Frenchman was trying to poke his nose into business that wasn’t his. Alfred stubbornly refused to tear his gaze away from the headmaster’s, but a slightly uncomfortable feeling stirred in his gut, like he was made of cellophane and Snape could somehow see right through him.</p><p>“What is your relationship with Kirkland?” Snape asked suddenly.</p><p>Alfred blinked. “What?”</p><p>“Even if you do not know the sword’s whereabouts, you seem to know quite a bit about it... not least because of Kirkland’s influence,” Snape said, and there was a certainty in his tone that made Alfred squirm just a little. How the hell did he figure that out?</p><p>“Dunno what you’re talking about, dude,” Alfred said, a bit too brazenly. “It’s just a story I heard back home.”</p><p>“Really?” Snape’s shrewd black eyes gleamed. “I wasn’t aware that Americans concerned themselves with the relics of a foreign school across the ocean.”</p><p>“Nah, ‘course we don’t! It’s not like this place is all that special! I used to know a guy who came here, that’s all.”</p><p>Alfred prided himself on his ability to talk out of his ass and still sound convincing, but the way Snape curled his lip gave him the distinct impression that he wasn’t buying it. Luckily, they were interrupted at that moment by a series of hasty raps on the door. Snape’s gaze flickered irritably over his shoulder, and Alfred half-expected him to ignore it, but after a moment’s consideration he said in a clipped voice: “Enter.”</p><p>Speak of the devil: the door flew open and the slightly flushed, panting figure of Arthur Kirkland came hurrying inside, apparently having just sprinted down several flights of stairs. He strode up to Snape and halted right next to him, straightening his back with a familiar air of authority.</p><p>“Miss McGonagall informed me of a disturbance in the headmaster’s office,” Arthur said, his eyes straying down to Alfred, and his scowl spoke of someone who was irritated but not at all surprised to find the American here. “She seemed to think that one of our foreign representatives may have been involved, so I came to see if I could apprehend them.”</p><p>“I appreciate your vigilance,” Snape said with a rather sour expression. “The culprit seems to have been caught, however, so your assistance—”</p><p>“How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t do it!” Alfred shouted.</p><p>“If I may,” Arthur said to Snape, ignoring Alfred, who fumed at their feet, “I’ll take over the situation from here. I’d like to handle Jones myself, if you don’t mind.”</p><p>Snape looked as though he minded very much. “May I remind you who the headmaster of this school is?” he said icily. “I believe I am the one who decides what to do with overstepping guests.” He paused. “Unless the two of you have some... special relationship that I haven’t been informed of?”</p><p>Arthur returned a cool, calculating stare. “I used to work in government before coming to teach here,” he said shortly. “We’re familiar with one another.”</p><p>“Is that so?” Snape said softly. “Yes, I daresay knowing one another for a hundred years would make you very familiar.”</p><p>There was an extremely tense silence.</p><p>“Amycus and Alecto think the world of Muggles beneath their notice,” Snape said, his expression faintly smug. “Your cover may have fooled them, but I thought it prudent to have a look into those records... and how peculiar it was, to find the names Alfred Jones and Arthur Kirkland appearing as far back as the first Great War.”</p><p>“Magical folk live much longer than Muggles do, surely you know that,” Arthur said. His fingers flicked imperceptibly in Alfred’s direction, and Alfred felt something sweep over him, like an invisible, featherlight blanket had suddenly landed upon his head. He instinctively tried to call Arthur out on it, only to realise that he could no longer make a sound.</p><p><em>Are you freakin’ kidding me?!</em> Alfred thought furiously. He really needed to get better at magic so he could show up these two annoying-ass teachers.</p><p>“Such vanity, going to the effort to ensure your appearance remained unchanged all that time,” Snape said, his shrewd black eyes still fixed on Arthur, who bristled at the very idea of being called <em>vain</em>. “Unusual, even for the most powerful of wizards, to achieve such a thing... one might even suspect Dark magic at play.”</p><p>“Because Death Eaters are well-known to scorn the use of Dark magic,” Arthur deadpanned.</p><p>“Do not take me for a fool!” Snape snarled. “You have both done something to extend your lives beyond anything natural, perhaps something that violates every law of the magical world!”</p><p>“... You can't possibly be serious.” Arthur was now looking at him in flat disbelief.</p><p>“Do you have anything to prove otherwise?”</p><p>“Oh, silly me, I must have forgotten to include the baby photos in my CV,” Arthur said sardonically. “Is this what you’ve been wasting your time on, chasing some crackpot theory that we’re all in some secret immortal cult? No wonder the students are running rampant around here, if their headmaster is too busy digging through Muggle archives and staring at old photographs to actually run the school. And for what, the shocking revelation that wizards can outlive Muggles and can do a bit of transfiguration to hide their age?”</p><p>Snape’s sallow face contorted in anger. Meanwhile, Alfred gaped up at Arthur; the old man had the balls to lecture <em>him</em> for picking fights?</p><p>“I didn’t realise it was your privilege to criticise what I do, Kirkland,” Snape said in a dangerous tone.</p><p>“Of course, I forgot. A lowly teacher like myself can’t possibly fathom the complex workings of the Hogwarts headmaster,” Arthur said, inclining his head in a would-be civil manner. “Now, since you’ve clearly got more important things to do, it should be a relief for someone to take this idiot off your hands for you. I’d like to get this over with sooner rather than later.” He gestured down to Alfred, who cocked an eyebrow and mouthed a silent retort behind Snape’s back.</p><p>Snape did not tear his gaze away from Arthur, and Alfred was convinced that he was going to jump onto something else, another little detail that he absolutely, definitely should <em>not</em> know, but could somehow pluck out of their minds like a creepy stalker.</p><p>But if Snape was prying Arthur’s thoughts for any more clues, Arthur didn’t give them away, because Snape eventually cast him a very nasty look and released Alfred’s bindings with a reluctant flick of his wand.</p><p>“I assume you won’t protest, then,” Snape said, “if I delve a bit further into your family records.”</p><p>“If you must,” Arthur said irritably, beckoning at Alfred as he turned to leave. “You won’t find anything incriminating, mind. Blood status, Ministry connections, Gringotts vault—we’ve got the whole lot. I do warn you though, my brothers won’t take too kindly to a stranger coming to dig into our business.”</p>
<hr/><p>Ginny’s smirk was positively radiant as she entered the Great Hall and sat herself beside Neville, who was already quite busy with dinner.</p><p>“You look happy,” Neville commented as he slathered butter onto his roll.</p><p>“Couldn’t be better,” she replied. Even though they weren’t completely out of the woods yet, Gryffindor’s sword was out of Snape’s hands, and now all they had to do was figure out how to send it to its rightful owner. Neville had expressed concern that smuggling the sword out of the castle would actually be the harder part, but Ginny was positive they would figure something out, and they would pull it off just as they’d pulled off the heist.</p><p>There was plenty of chatter up and down the table about the bird storm from earlier that day. What Ginny found a bit strange was the fact that nobody seemed to be aware of any break-ins at the headmaster’s office—but then again, Snape probably didn’t want to admit that someone actually succeeded in stealing from him.</p><p>All of a sudden, the students around them fell into a hush. Ginny and Neville seemed to realise it at the same time; they glanced briefly at each other, then both looked up to see the looming face of Amycus Carrow, his claw-like hand pulling Luna behind him.</p><p>“Your Head of House wants to see you lot,” he said, the corners of his lips crinkling in a nasty smirk that made Neville’s heart sink.</p><p>“What? We didn’t—”</p><p>“<em>Now.</em>”</p>
<hr/><p>“Why the <em>fuck</em> would you do something so stupid!?” Arthur burst out.</p><p>“I told you, it wasn’t me!” Alfred insisted, repeating himself for what felt like the hundredth time during the course of one conversation. Did Arthur drag him up to his office just to interrogate him? Was he on trial here? “Look, I’m not totally dumb! I know what Gryffindor’s sword is, you told me all sorts of stories about it as a kid, remember?”</p><p>At the mention of that period of their lives, Arthur shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Alfred seized the opportunity to make his case without his former guardian yelling over him.</p><p>“Literally what reason would I have to steal it? You think I’d go charging at the baddies waving a sword and expect that to go over well? I mean, that’d be cool, not gonna lie, but you keep forgetting I have the same job as you, I wouldn’t even <em>be</em> here if I acted that stupid when shit hits the fan!”</p><p>Arthur wanted to argue. He really, <em>really</em> wanted to argue. But even he had to admit that Alfred had a point; as absurd as the American could be sometimes, there did exist some form of rationality buried beneath it. He was a world power for a reason.</p><p>At the same time though... that didn’t excuse his penchant for sheer recklessness.</p><p>“Explain, then,” Arthur growled, “why the headmaster found you standing in his office next to an empty smashed case.”</p><p>“It was like that when I got there. Wrong place, wrong time, y’know?”</p><p>“Why do I feel like you’re not telling me the whole story?”</p><p>“‘Cause you never trust me.”</p><p>Arthur stared, stunned by how Alfred could throw out such an accusation so callously and then continue to chatter on in the same breath: “Look, just ask those talking paintings, they saw what happened!”</p><p>“Yes, I’m aware that Phineas Nigellus Black witnessed a group of students doing the actual stealing,” Arthur said sourly. “Miss McGonagall is handling them now.”</p><p>Alfred immediately straightened up, startled. “They got caught?”</p><p>“The only proof we have right now is the portraits’ accounts, but I daresay that’ll be more than enough for the headmaster.” No doubt others saw the culprits running through the school with a massive silver sword, but there was nobody else who would step forward and give a testimony, nor was there any concrete proof that Alfred was in league with them. But Arthur would be stupid not to think that the American wasn’t involved somehow. “The sword itself still hasn’t been recovered,” Arthur continued pointedly, and he leveled a withering glare at Alfred, who rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Don’t ask me where it is, ‘cause I don’t know.”</p><p>Arthur glanced out the window at the cloudy night sky, imploring the heavens to grant him enough patience to deal with this. Right at that moment, he was spared the rest of the argument by the sound of a knock on the door, and he threw a brusque shout of “Come in!” over his shoulder.</p><p>He turned around to see McGonagall entering the room. “Miss McGonagall,” Arthur said.</p><p>“Professor Kirkland.” McGonagall returned the greeting with a curt nod. “My apologies for interrupting, but I must borrow Jones here. Professor Snape says he is to report to the Forbidden Forest immediately for his punishment.”</p><p>“<em>What</em>?” said both nations at the same time.</p><p>“Dude, I didn’t even do anything!” Alfred whined.</p><p>“I’m all for giving him some discipline,” Arthur said, ignoring him, “but... sending him into the forest?”</p><p>“He will not be alone,” McGonagall said. “Miss Weasley, Mr Longbottom, and Miss Lovegood have been assigned to this task as well, and they will all be supervised by Hagrid. Professor Snape thinks it would be... illuminating if one of the representatives sees firsthand what punishment is like at this school.”</p><p>“That isn’t what I meant. This is Snape’s idea of punishment?” Arthur’s brow creased. He couldn’t quite believe that a Death Eater, when faced with people breaking into his office, would saddle them with something that was more of a chore than torture, particularly when his cohorts were throwing Dark magic at the children left and right. Perhaps Arthur was biased, but still...</p><p>“I think in this case, it would be wiser not to contradict him,” McGonagall said dryly. “Jones, do you know how to find the entrance of the Forbidden Forest, or would you like an escort?”</p><p>“Nah, I don’t get lost, miss! Don’t worry!” Alfred said, puffing out his chest.</p><p>“Don’t be an idiot, Alfred—”</p><p>“I’ll find it by myself!” he cut Arthur off belligerently. The sooner he could get away from this stupid conversation, the better.</p><p>McGonagall, too, looked less than convinced, but with an impassive “Very well then,” she dismissed him, and Alfred swaggered out of the office with a definite attitude in his step.</p><p>Arthur heaved a long sigh, leaned on his desk and dragged a hand through his hair.</p><p>“Not a very helpful discussion, I presume,” McGonagall commented.</p><p>“I should know better than to expect that prat to be helpful,” Arthur said, shaking his head. “Still haven’t got a clue where they could have hidden the sword or what they wanted to do with it. I imagine Snape’s already spoken to you about it.”</p><p>“At length,” McGonagall said, almost offhandedly. “He has ordered us to make every effort to retrieve it and ‘return it to its rightful place’.”</p><p>“I see.” Arthur paused. “Are you going to do so?”</p><p>“I believe there are better uses for such an artifact than decorating a Death Eater’s office.”</p><p>His lips twitched into a small smile. “I expected no less of you...”</p>
<hr/><p>“He’s got no bloody proof, and <em>still</em>!?”</p><p>Ginny’s outrage could be heard all the way across the grounds as she, Neville, and Luna trooped towards the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid leading the way with a swinging oil lamp and Fang at his side.</p><p>“Well, the portraits did witness it,” Neville said. “We probably should’ve thought that through.”</p><p>“That’s just their word against ours! Did they catch us red-handed with the damn thing? No! Unless Slughorn snitched and he managed to find where we hid it,” Ginny fumed.</p><p>“I really don’t think Snape needs much convincing to pin it on us,” Neville pointed out. “He probably doesn’t care what Slughorn or anyone else has to say...”</p><p>At the entrance to the forest, a ruffled mess of golden blonde hair stuck out against a drab brown and green backdrop, visible even in the dim light of evening. It would’ve drawn their attention even if the person waiting for them wasn’t yelling at the top of his lungs: “Heyyyy! Over here!”</p><p>“Hello, Mr Jones,” Luna said pleasantly when they reached Alfred. “I was surprised when I heard you were going to be joining us.”</p><p>“Yeah, that makes two of us,” Alfred said. “But hey, you guys are cool, and we totally rocked that plan! This’ll be like a bonding experience, y’know? Ride together, die together!”</p><p>“Erm, let’s hope nobody’s going to be dying soon,” Neville said nervously, sneaking a glance at the suffocating darkness that towered before them.</p><p>“Nah, yeh lot’ll be fine with me,” Hagrid said. He glanced warily at Alfred before continuing: “Professor Snape’s gettin’ yeh ter clear out some o’ the old weeds in there. Now, yeh’ve got ter be careful, some o’ them are the bitin’ sort and they aren’ shy—don’ think yeh woulda tackled these even in Professor Sprout’s class. But yeh’ve all got wands so I reckon yeh won’t have any problems.” He straightened up and smiled reassuringly down at the three students, at the same time turning away from their international guest, obviously not wanting to get too friendly. “Ready ter go?”</p><p>“Oh, I was also wondering...” Luna perked up as though reminded of something. “While we’re in there, could we look for a little polar bear wandering around? Mr Williams thinks he might be lost in the forest and he’s very worried.”</p><p>“Mattie asked you to do that for him?” Alfred said, the disappointment in his voice clear as day. Why’d he go to this random girl first? They were supposed to be two French fries in a basket, America and Canada, so Matthew should’ve come to him for stuff like that!</p><p>“Oh, no, he didn’t ask,” Luna said. “But I think it would be a nice surprise if we brought his pet back.”</p><p>“Well duh, now you’ve mentioned it!” Alfred pumped a fist in the air. “C’mon, gang, rescue mission! We’re not leaving until we find Kumathingy, all right?”</p><p>“Now that ain’t what we’re here for,” Hagrid reprimanded him. “Gotta focus on orders first an’ foremost. ‘Course we can keep an eye out on the way, so don’ worry,” he said to Luna, “we’ll find the little critter an’ get him back to yer friend.”</p><p>A heavy mist had settled over the night, and the earth beneath their feet sunk gently as the group set off into the Forbidden Forest. A lone crow cawed overhead, the sound floating eerily into the sky. It might have even been peaceful if it were daytime; as it was though, the sun had already slipped away long ago, and in the light of Hagrid’s lamp, the only thing they could make out was the dirt path in front of them and hundreds of huge, twisted trees that seemed to draw them deeper.</p><p>“The Forest’s supposed to be super dangerous, right?” Alfred asked, his initial burst of energy starting to falter. He couldn’t imagine that Snape would let them off lightly after they broke into the headmaster’s office.</p><p>“We can handle it,” Ginny said with confidence in her voice, but from what Alfred could see in the dim light, neither she, Neville, nor Luna looked entirely sure about that.</p><p>“Have you heard the sorts of things that live here though?” Neville said nervously. “Giant spiders and meat-eating birds, boggarts—”</p><p>“Aw, <em>really</em>?” Alfred groaned, and what little enthusiasm he had left evaporated on the spot. “I hate boggarts, man. Got them at home too, they’re such a pain the ass to deal with.”</p><p>Neville let out a dismayed little noise. Of course he trusted Ginny and Luna with his life, and Alfred and Hagrid seemed more than capable of holding their own against any creatures in here, but still—the sinister ambience wasn’t doing his nerves any favours.</p><p>“Relax, all o’ yeh,” Hagrid reassured them from the front. “Like I said, nothin’s gonna hurt yeh while yeh’re with Fang an’ me. Harry, Ron, an’ Hermione came here plenty o’ times an’—”</p><p>He cut himself off abruptly and glanced over his shoulder at Alfred, but the American wasn’t paying very much attention; he had bigger worries on his mind.</p><p>“Yo, this place isn’t... haunted, is it?” Living in a haunted castle was bad enough, and now Alfred couldn’t stop thinking about all the desolate forests he’d seen in horror movies and video games, with all their creepy-crawlies and... gh-gh—</p><p>He yelped when something scuttled in the shadows next to them. Luna gave a small start as she unexpectedly found a large, quivering American clamping onto her arm and clinging to her for dear life.</p><p>“It’s okay, Mr Jones,” Luna said reassuringly. “I don’t think any of the ghosts really come here. That was probably just a Blood-Sucking Bugbear.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s comforting,” Ginny deadpanned. Despite the usual confidence in her posture, she too was glancing around warily for anything that could jump out at them all of a sudden.</p><p>“Here we are!” Hagrid said finally, halting them at a particularly large expanse of tangled plants that sprawled across a clearing in the forest floor. Thorny vines snaked around the surrounding tree roots and wrapped their way up the trunks, their leaves glinting with bright, poisonous spots of red, and if Alfred wasn’t mistaken, there was a faint <em>click-clicking</em> noise coming from something inside the mass of vines piled up in the centre. What exactly it was, he didn’t know, and he didn’t really want to find out, thanks.</p><p>“Now, yeh probably know a lot more spells than me, so I don’ wanna tell yeh what ter do,” Hagrid said. “All yeh need is ter get rid o’ this lump as much as yeh can, an’ if yeh find any seed pods in there, Professor Sprout said ter save some fer her.”</p><p>“Oh, this is Nipping Nettlewort!” Neville said suddenly, a ray of curiosity now shining through the trepidation on his face. “First time I’ve seen one of these... be careful, guys, it likes to launch its stingers when you get close. I think the pods have teeth too, apparently they hurt <em>really</em> bad if they bite...”</p><p>That little tidbit of information hardly inspired confidence in any of them, but Alfred was momentarily distracted by the change it seemed to spark in Neville: so far the impression Alfred had of this kid was a meek but loyal friend, determined no doubt, and unwavering in his ideals, yet who didn’t speak as confidently as the others and allowed Ginny to take the lead in most things. But now he was the first to approach the weed-like vines with his wand cautiously at the ready, his gaze focused like he knew exactly what he was doing, for once.</p><p>Ginny and Luna too seemed to have full trust in Neville’s plant knowledge; they immediately followed his lead, both conjuring up Shield Charms to deflect any flying thorns before all three of them began firing spells to hack away at the giant mass. The clicking noise grew louder and angrier as vines rose up like the heads of snakes, intermittently striking forward to try and snap at their attackers. Hagrid and Fang stayed back a few metres, but Hagrid pulled out a slightly battered pink umbrella from underneath his coat and held it at the ready as he kept an eye on the plant. Alfred squinted in confusion. He wasn’t really sure what an umbrella could do against a spiky, carnivorous plant monster, but hey, with his size, this Hagrid dude could probably beat up an attacker with anything.</p><p>Then all of a sudden, Alfred spotted a flash of white out of the corner of his eye and he jumped again, whipping his head around to see if it was a ghost. Which thankfully it wasn’t; the white creature was too tiny, too bright and fluffy to be a spectre of the undead. The little animal crawled away into the underbrush, apparently frightened by all the snapping and shouting in the clearing, and Alfred couldn’t help wondering what the heck kind of creatures ran around in Scotland’s forests, ‘cause that almost looked like a—</p><p>
  <em>Polar bear!</em>
</p><p>“Oh hey—that’s Kumathingy!” Alfred shouted abruptly as realisation hit him. Before he could even notice the glances of confusion that everyone threw him, he bolted towards the thicket where Kumajirou had disappeared. He didn’t hear the others yelling behind him to wait; all he was focused on was his rescue mission and making sure his brother got his beloved pet back safe and sound.</p><p>“Heeeey! Wait up!”</p><p>Alfred had no idea whether or not the bear could understand English, but he called out anyway, sprinting as fast as he could over tree roots and low-lying clusters of bushes. His eyes darted back and forth, searching. At least it was easy enough to spot Kumajirou even through the thick mist; small as he was, white fur wasn’t exactly the best camouflage against green and brown.</p><p>Maybe the bear did understand Alfred after all, because when the American finally caught up with him, he seemed to be waiting for him, sat on his haunches next to a log and peering up at him with tiny, bright black eyes. “C’mon, ya little rascal,” Alfred said affectionately, scooping up Kumajirou. “Betcha can’t wait to see Mattie again, huh? I’ll get you back safe and sound, don’t worry!”</p><p>He just had to make sure they all managed to out of the forest. To be quite honest, Alfred would be fine if he never had to step foot in here again.</p><p>“Man, this place really gives me the creeps.” Alfred turned around, and his heart dropped when he realised that the others weren’t behind him. “Guys...? Guys, where are you? Hello?”</p><p>No response.</p><p>Great.</p><p>He began walking again. Leaves squelched underfoot with every quivering step he took, the sound stifled by the fog that pressed down around him. Tucked safely under his arm, Kumajirou peeked around them in silence. It was hard to tell what expression was on the polar bear’s face, but Alfred hoped he wasn’t scared—he had nothing to be scared about, the hero was here to protect him!</p><p>The clearing was vaguely in this direction, he thought... didn’t he see that tree already though? Maybe he should turn around. He didn’t think it took <em>that</em> long to find Kumajirou, but then again, he ran pretty fast; maybe he covered a lot of ground. But the others should be nearby somewhere!</p><p>It was then that he spotted him: the tall, shadowy figure of a person among the trees, standing alone and utterly still. Alfred’s face lit up and he wasted no time running over, only to see that the figure was a man, slightly shorter than him with a mop of disheveled blonde hair—</p><p>“Artie? What the heck?” Alfred sighed with palpable relief that it was just his old man, instead of an axe murderer or something, although he couldn’t hide his confusion. “Man, you scared me... what are you doing here? Didja see anyone else around, by any chance? I kinda got separated from my group, and... Artie? Hello?”</p><p>Arthur continued to stare blankly at him. His eyes were empty and unblinking, and Alfred wasn’t even sure they were focusing on him.</p><p>“Hey, England, you’re acting real strange here—”</p><p>“<em>England</em>?” he spat with such venom that Alfred reeled back in shock. “You’ve got some fucking gall to lord that name over me after all that’s happened!”</p><p>Alfred yelped. His foot caught over a tree root as he stumbled backwards, and he fell onto his behind on the cold, wet earth. Kumajirou scrabbled in his arms, his tiny claws raking against the cloth of Alfred’s sleeve as he tried to escape, but the nation inadvertently kept his grip tight around the bear as he stared wide-eyed up at his former guardian. Arthur’s silhouette suddenly seemed to glow white and an eerie smoke enveloped him, and Alfred’s heart dropped as the other nation started to fade away before his very eyes.</p><p>There was a part of his brain that was telling him <em>this isn’t real, this can’t be real</em>, but he felt like his entire body was frozen as the apparition advanced on him.</p><p>“Are you happy now?” Arthur hissed, his translucent figure now floating, his feet brushing over the leaves and twigs on the ground without making a sound. “I’m out of your way, just as you wanted all those years ago—there isn’t any <em>England</em> anymore and there never will be again! So, are you fucking happy now?”</p><p>
  <em>What?!</em>
</p><p>“This is a joke, right?” Alfred said weakly. “You’re not really...”</p><p>“Dead?”</p><p>The word stabbed into him, extinguishing the rest of his sentence, and the corner of Arthur’s mouth curled upwards.</p><p>“Finally showing some remorse, are you? Finally realised you can’t bury your head in the sand forever?”</p><p>“Wha—!? That’s not true, I never—”</p><p>“<em>Don’t bullshit me</em>!” Arthur snarled. “This is all your fault and you know it! The Dark Lord won, they destroyed me from the inside out, and you—” the cold, deadly rage in his voice flooded Alfred’s veins with ice “—you didn’t do a <em>damned thing</em> to help!”</p><p>“No—listen, I’m trying—”</p><p>“<em>Trying</em>?” Arthur’s derisive laughter pierced the fog like a knife. “You failed, and that’s all that matters now, isn’t that right? Pomp yourself up all you want, useless boy, in the end you’re nothing but a failure! ‘<em>Oh, just leave it to America, America will always be there to save the day</em>’—you fucking <em>liar</em>!”</p><p>He hacked up a volume of blood and spat it violently on the grass. Alfred’s mouth hung open in disbelief for a moment before trying to force a strained smile. “C’mon, old man, I know we piss each other off and everything, but I always thought you were—y’know, at least a little bit proud of me—”</p><p>“Oh, really? You think you’re so damn noble then?” Arthur stalked closer, and Alfred yelped and tried to scramble backwards in panic. “You think anybody would be <em>proud</em> of all the shit you do? Ha, what a riot! Face it, you were never any sort of <em>hero</em>,” he jeered. “Just a selfish, puffed-up idiot who’s deluded himself into thinking he’s doing some good in this world, when really you’re the exact reason it’s rotting to the core—”</p><p>“Professor!”</p><p>Ginny’s voice rang out as she came running forward, throwing herself in front of Alfred, whose entire being was frozen in shock. Arthur snapped his head towards her, lashing out, and suddenly his body began to twist in the most grotesque manner—and then it wasn’t Arthur Kirkland standing in front of them, but a tall, skeletal man in a hooded cloak, his skin ashen like a corpse, and when he opened his eyes in fury Alfred saw bright crimson sclera and tiny cat-like slivers for pupils—</p><p>“<em>Riddikulus</em>!” Ginny shouted, and the man transformed once again, this time into a tiny, plump creature covered in bright pink fuzz. It squeaked and rolled clumsily away into the shadows.</p><p>She let out a harsh breath, watching it disappear, then glanced down at Alfred still sitting on the forest floor, staring at where the boggart had stood just moments before. “You all right?”</p><p>Alfred snapped his mouth shut and swallowed hard.</p><p>“Yeah... yeah, I’m fine,” he said at last. “Just dandy.”</p><p>Ginny helped him back to his feet, then tugged him on the arm. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. The others are over there looking for you.”</p><p>He followed her obediently, trudging along as though lost in a trance. For a few minutes the two walked side by side without speaking.</p><p>Alfred was the first to crack. “That guy just now, the one your boggart turned into... was that him? You-Know-Who?” Ginny nodded, and Alfred’s expression hardened in determination. “Awesome. Now I know what he looks like, so I can beat him up if I ever see him.”</p><p>“He’d kill you before you could get that far,” Ginny pointed out.</p><p>“Oh yeah.” Alfred grimaced. “Damn it, where’s a gun when you need one...”</p><p>“Gun?”</p><p>“Y’know, the thing that goes <em>bang</em> and shoots people dead?” He mimicked a gun shape with his thumb and forefinger, but when Ginny continued to stare at him in bewilderment, he decided to drop the subject. “Well, whatever. I know y’all aren’t too big on guns in this country anyway.”</p><p>Pensive silence filled the air again. Alfred was so lost in thought, he gave a start when Ginny spoke up again.</p><p>“Why are you afraid of Professor Kirkland?”</p><p>“What, Artie? Nah, it’s not him I’m scared of.” A faint smile flitted across Alfred’s face at the very idea, but it was short-lived as dejection clouded over him once more. “It’s... what he said.”</p><p>But he did not elaborate, even when she gave him a questioning look.</p><p>“There yeh are!” Hagrid was not at all pleased when Ginny and Alfred emerged into a small clearing where the rest of the group was waiting. “Didn’t I tell yeh, Jones, yeh can’t just run off like that! Ruddy well gave me a heart attack, yeh did,” he grumbled. “Well... good on yeh for findin’ the bear, at least. There’s still plenty o’ work ter do with the weeds though, so you should pull yer weight.”</p><p>Alfred had no energy to protest Hagrid’s less-than-sympathetic tone of voice. After passing Kumajirou onto Fang for protection, he was briefed by the three students on the Severing Charms they were using for the weeds, and without another word they all went to work.</p><p>“Just you wait, old man,” Alfred muttered under his breath as he started hacking away with newfound ferocity. “I <em>will</em> be a hero... failure’s not an option, America. Not this time.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Underground Resistance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yong Soo halted mid-stride in the middle of the corridor, cocking his head curiously. There was a tiny rustling, tweeting noise audible in the silence of the deserted hallway. Curiously, taking featherlight steps so as not to mask the noise, he followed it to its source.</p>
<p>“Oh, hey there, little guy!” Yong Soo perked up when he spotted the cause: one of his parchment magpies had somehow gotten itself trapped behind a statue of an old, hunchbacked witch, and now it was struggling to loosen itself free, batting its wings feebly. The bird’s creator immediately rushed to its rescue. It quickly became clear, however, that the creature was hopelessly wedged between the wall and the cold, grey stone of the statue, and try as he might, Yong Soo couldn’t pull it out without ripping the poor thing.</p>
<p>He took out his wand and waved it. “<em>Assio kkachi</em>!” The bird budged a tiny bit, as if yanked by an invisible string, but the Summoning Charm still wasn’t enough to pull it free. “Ah, damn it, if only this stupid statue weren’t here.<em> Disenteu</em>! No? Oh, come on...”</p>
<p>As he rounded the corner of the hallway, Yao stumbled upon a very peculiar scene indeed.</p>
<p>“What on earth are you up to now, aru?” he asked, not bothering to hide his impatience as he came up behind Yong Soo, who was crouched next to the statue and waving his wand with determined vigour.</p>
<p>“Trying—to get rid of—this stupid statue,” Yong Soo said, punctuating each phrase with a tap on stone witch’s massive hump.</p>
<p>“<em>Why</em>? You’re not trying to break it, are you? Surely you’re not going to disrespect the castle by smashing up its ancient artifacts—”</p>
<p>“<em>Idongmul</em>! <em>Tteugehada</em>!”</p>
<p>“—and you are not as young as America but I daresay many of the objects in this school are still older than you—”</p>
<p>“Hm, maybe only English spells work on it. <em>Reducto</em>!”</p>
<p>Both nations ducked when the top of the statue suddenly exploded and rocky debris was flung every which way. The silence that followed the blast seemed to ring loudly in their ears, only to be broken by Yong Soo’s cheerful laughter.</p>
<p>“Whew!” he said brightly. “Well, that did the trick! Aw, you’re welcome, little guy!”</p>
<p>Yao coughed, waving his hands to try and clear the cloud of dust that had engulfed them in the aftermath. When things eventually settled, he glanced up and his mouth fell open; the hump of the stone witch had been blasted right off, leaving a giant hole on the witch’s back and a partially shattered face.</p>
<p>After a stunned beat, he drew himself up and was about to go on a very loud, reprehending tirade, only to be stopped by the sight of Yong Soo bouncing forward and sticking his head inside the statue.</p>
<p>“Hey, this thing’s hollow!” he shouted in delight, his voice echoing slightly. Both his hands gripped the craggy edges of the destroyed hump as he leaned in even further, the upper half of his torso disappearing into its depths. Beside him perched a tiny origami bird, which peered down in a mirror of its master’s actions, and Yao’s brow furrowed when he recognised it from the bird debacle from just days before. “Dang,” Yong Soo continued, “it goes pretty far... hey, hyung, do you think this could be a secret hideout or something?”</p>
<p>“Secret hideout or not,” Yao berated, “we are going up to Arthur’s office <em>this instant</em> to apologise! I cannot believe you had the audacity—”</p>
<p>“Sure, sure, but I wanna explore first!” Ignoring Yao’s frustrated “<em>Im Yong Soo!</em>” behind him, the intrepid Korean clambered feet first into the hole. With a loud whoop, he pushed himself down and found himself sliding a short distance, and ended up landing in what seemed to be a damp, lightless underground tunnel.</p>
<p>“Oh wow!” Yong Soo’s voice drifted up through the broken statue, loud enough to reassure Yao that he hadn’t fallen too far deep, even though he had disappeared out of sight into the darkness. “I knew it! C’mon, hyung, I think this thing leads somewhere!”</p>
<p>The magpie was now perched on Yong Soo’s shoulder, chirping excitedly as Yong Soo raced ahead into the unknown. Behind him, Yao’s yelp echoed through the tunnel as he, too, slid into the passageway and landed on his behind with a hard <em>thump</em>.</p>
<p>“Ow ow ow... and he doesn’t even stop to help his elder?” Yao grumbled indignantly as he heaved himself to his feet. “Yong Soo!”</p>
<p>He was answered by a cry of pain, a zapping noise like a live wire being set off and then the thud of a body falling to the ground.</p>
<p>Suddenly on high alert, Yao sprinted to catch up with Yong Soo, only to find him lying on his back with the distinct smell of something singed wafting off him; a sore, shiny pink burn was already starting to blossom on his face. Yao’s wand was already out and he snapped into a battle stance, though there didn’t seem to be anything around them but darkness.</p>
<p>“Careful, hyung,” Yong Soo mumbled, his eyes fluttering open incoherently. “There’s a barrier...”</p>
<p>“A what?” Yao’s eyes were still darting around as he stood guard over the other nation, but there was no movement, nor sound nor sight of a foe anywhere.</p>
<p>“It was like a big invisible wall, I ran right into it...” Yong Soo propped himself groggily up onto his elbows, and with a start he noticed the tiny bird flailing on the ground next to him, its entire right wing burnt off as though someone had taken a torch to it. “Ah, he got hurt!” With one hand he scooped it up and tucked it safely underneath the collar of his robe. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you! Think that thing burnt some of my hair too... and my face! Jja jeung na, I just did a face mask yesterday!”</p>
<p>Ignoring him, Yao squinted cautiously and cast a Revealing Charm into the depths of the passageway. Instead of soaring through unimpeded, the spell struck something flat and solid, which flashed bright white for a split second before becoming invisible again.</p>
<p>“A cursed barrier?” Yao mused. “It looks like it’s blocking the entire tunnel, aru... well, this seems like the end of your little adventure.” Sternly, he grabbed Yong Soo by the arms, interrupting his efforts to cool down his burn with a stream of water from his wand, and with a grunt he hauled him back to his feet. “Clearly there must be something dangerous here if the school saw fit to seal this place. Now, enough of all of this rule-breaking—”</p>
<p>“Why are you so boring, hyung?” Yong Soo said, rolling his eyes as he squirmed out of Yao’s grasp. “You’re not gonna join me in breaking down this thing? Not even a little bit of help?”</p>
<p>“I am not ‘joining’ you in anything, because neither of us are going any further!”</p>
<p>“Don’t tell me you’re just gonna run away and forget about this! That’s cool, if you want to take the sissy’s way out—”</p>
<p>“Excuse me?” Yao blustered.</p>
<p>“Hey, I’m not gonna blame you if you’re not smart enough to know how to get past this!” Yong Soo said cheerfully. “We’re all a little rusty on our magic, minus England obviously, so...”</p>
<p>His face broke into a small, impish grin as Yao stomped over to the invisible wall, muttering to himself about “<em>the utter disrespect</em>” and “<em>I’ll show this child</em>”. Of course, Yong Soo didn’t think his old guardian was stupid in the slightest; in fact, he was probably their best chance of figuring out a way to kick this barrier’s ass. All he needed was a little convincing.</p>
<p>For a few minutes, both of them tried every spell they could think of to break through, but they all bounced off with the same zapping noise and a visible, momentary ripple, and the wall remained steadfastly solid. Yao stepped back, huffed and crossed his arms. He was beginning to think this was a waste of time, but now that Yong Soo had insulted his intelligence, he <em>couldn’t</em> give up—he was supposed to be the wise, ever-knowing role model here!</p>
<p>“Tough nut, huh?” Yong Soo commented, ducking as his fifth curse in a row ricocheted with a muffled blast into the wall above his head. “Man, this is gonna take forever... do you think there’s a way we could get around it instead?”</p>
<p>Yao hesitated, which Yong Soo immediately noticed and jumped on.</p>
<p>“You know a way, don’t you! Tell me, tell me!”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say anything!” Yao snapped.</p>
<p>“Aw, come on!” Yong Soo wheedled, grabbing the elder by the sleeve and shaking it like a child.</p>
<p>“I’m not going to use it in any case, it’s too dangerous,” Yao said, yanking his arm away.</p>
<p>Yong Soo tilted his head curiously. “You’re being dramatic again, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>“What do you mean ‘<em>again</em>’?” Yao echoed, affronted. “And I am not being <em>dramatic</em>, aru, if the spell fails, we could be stuck in here without any hope of rescue!”</p>
<p>At Yong Soo’s inquisitive stare, Yao sighed and reluctantly elaborated: “It’s a Chinese spell I learned centuries ago. It allows one to phase through solid objects, including walls. I don’t think even Opium knows of it—he likes to think he knows everything about magic, but he seems to forget that I’ve been around much longer than him.” Yao had used the spell for many, many years in his youth, when he had grown tired of dealing with the walls that divided his country, especially since he was always on the move and had to cross borders constantly. But his need for it had fallen considerably since the Ming dynasty; not that he would admit out loud that he was rusty, but he certainly wasn’t as confident with it as he used to be.</p>
<p>Yong Soo whistled. “That sounds so cool! I say we give it a shot! I mean, what could go wrong?”</p>
<p>“I’ll tell you what could go wrong!” Yao snapped. “If it fails, we’ll be trapped in these walls for eternity, and I’ve lived far too long to go out like that!”</p>
<p>“We’re not gonna get trapped!” Yong Soo said confidently. Then, when he saw Yao’s brows still furrowed uncertainly, he added with a knowing look, “Hyung is so good at magic, he can’t possibly fail—I trust my elder brother, you know!”</p>
<p>Yao’s eyes widened. Against his better judgment, he felt his heart swell with emotion. He rarely heard such affirmations from his siblings now that they had all grown up...</p>
<p>He couldn’t resist when Yong Soo spoke to him like that. He couldn’t! It was that last statement that lit a fire under the older nation, encouraging him to march up to the cavern wall and steel himself to perform the complicated spell, just once—just to prove that he still could!</p>
<p>Yao held out a hand, gesturing for Yong Soo to take it, and the tip of his wand rested on the wall as he shut his eyes in concentration. Then, to Yong Soo’s astonishment, Yao’s arm started to disappear into the wall as if being swallowed, and the next thing he knew they were passing through the rock like they were ghosts.</p>
<p>It was the strangest sensation Yong Soo had ever felt. It was hard to breathe; the earth pressed down on every inch of his body, crushing his lungs as they struggled to draw air, and trying to move his limbs was like trying to walk through wet concrete. He clutched Yao’s hand as tightly as he could, unable to see a thing, blindly trusting his old guardian to get them safely to the other side.</p>
<p>As soon as they popped back into corporeal existence, Yong Soo gasped, savouring the sudden burst of oxygen.</p>
<p>“Are you okay?” Yao said anxiously, his protective instinct taking over as he hovered over Yong Soo, checking every inch of him.</p>
<p>“That—was—<em>wicked</em>!”</p>
<p>Yong Soo’s shout made Yao jump in surprise, and he had to swerve to avoid being hit in the face by the Korean’s manic arm flailing. “I didn’t know you could do stuff like that!” Yong Soo said excitedly. “Wow, hyung, you’re smarter than I expected!”</p>
<p>“‘Smarter than’—<em>how rude</em>!” Yao bristled, but Yong Soo was already skipping ahead of him, happily leaving the cursed barrier behind without a second thought, while his companion trailed reluctantly behind him.</p>
<p>With each passing minute, Yao regretted more and more his decision to follow Yong Soo on this idiotic expedition. It all seemed like a bad idea, everything from breaking the statue to sneaking past an obvious boundary to the school, and the only thing that kept him chasing after Yong Soo was the determination to keep him out of trouble. Everything around them was silent except for the muffled sound of their footsteps on dirt, but time and again, although Yao kept glancing over his shoulder and seeing nothing... he couldn’t shake the strange, ominous feeling that someone was watching them.</p>
<p>The passageway went on and on, through twists and turns and uncomfortably narrow spaces, eventually sloping up and leading them up a rugged stone staircase. Neither of them had any idea how long they’d be walking. They had lost track of how much time had passed before the air seemed to change; something sweet started to infiltrate their damp, musty surroundings, chocolate and syrup and minty freshness, and Yong Soo perked up with renewed energy at the promise of some delicious treat at the end of the tunnel. His stomach gave a loud rumble. Dinner had been a while ago, and he was ready for a little nighttime snack!</p>
<p>“Oh, hyung! Over here, there’s a trapdoor!”</p>
<p>“Quiet down, I’m right behind you,” Yao grumbled, not at all surprised when Yong Soo, in fact, did not quiet down. With a whoop of excitement, Yong Soo clambered up the last few steps that appeared to be the endpoint of the passageway, and bright, dusty light spilled into the cavern as he pushed open a wooden hatch overhead.</p>
<p>It was instantly obvious where the smells were coming from: the pair seemed to have trespassed on the cellar of a cozy little sweet shop, each wall stacked to the ceiling with crates that held candies of every colour. Above them echoed a strong autumn wind, blustering like a gale against the windows and rattling an old wooden door, the sound rising and falling like the low, haunting groans of a phantom.</p>
<p>Yao and Yong Soo crept up the stairs to the main storefront, the former cautious, the latter practically bouncing with giddiness. Yao’s mind was racing with possible cover stories they could offer to the shop owner, frantic explanations and apologies for intruding—</p>
<p>Except they didn’t need any of that, it turned out. The shop was completely deserted. Not only that, but one glance outside the window revealed a tranquil village with rows of dark, empty streets, showing no life at all in the dim light of its rusted oil lampposts; it was as though they had stumbled upon a ghost town.</p>
<p>Yong Soo, meanwhile, was distracted by much more important things. “Wow, look at all this stuff! I haven’t seen half of these before, even at Al’s place! Hey, do you think I could take some back with us? I bet Al would go nuts—”</p>
<p>“Don’t touch!” Yao hissed, slapping Yong Soo’s hands before he could start grabbing everything in sight. “I think we need to leave. I have a feeling we’re not supposed to be here.”</p>
<p>“Aw, why?” Yong Soo whined. “We just got here!”</p>
<p>“We are most definitely out of school bounds right now, and it’s dark already, who knows what ungodly hour we’ll get back.” Yao was getting more uneasy with each passing minute. “We’re lucky that no one is here, now is our chance before—”</p>
<p>“Who are you?!”</p>
<p>Both nations whirled around to see a bald man in a raggedy brown cloak, pointing his wand at them, and behind him a wispy-haired, redheaded woman in a nightgown stared wide-eyed at the intruders. Yao’s hand flew to his pocket.</p>
<p>“<em>Stupefy</em>!” A red jet of light shot out of the bald man’s wand and hit Yong Soo square in the chest, and he collapsed, his own wand dropping uselessly to the floor. Yao dodged the next jet that was aimed at him, fired back a Disarming Charm and immediately took cover behind a towering Sugar Quill display. He heard the snap of a wand being knocked from its wielder’s hand and a shout of frustration from the man; like a sniper wielding a rifle, Yao wasted no time darting back out, blasting back two Stunning Spells in retaliation.</p>
<p><em>Thud</em>—<em>thud</em>—two bodies hit the floor and then there was stillness.</p>
<p>He only had a moment to exhale before hurrying over to Yong Soo on the ground. “<em>Kuai fu su</em>,” Yao said, and with a wave of his wand, the Korean was suddenly blinking up at him, still disoriented but revived back to consciousness. “What did I tell you, stupid boy! Aiyaa, now we really are in trouble—”</p>
<p>“Oh, you sure are,” came a new, snide voice from behind them.</p>
<p>Yao barely had time to think ‘<em>what now?!</em>’ before the claw-like grip of Amycus Carrow seized his arm and yanked him backwards.</p>
<p>“Well, lookee here,” Amycus said, looking smug while Yao glared indignantly at being manhandled. “Thought you government lot were sticklers for the rules. What, were you gonna sneak out and call for some little friends for help? ‘<em>Think of the children!</em>’” he simpered with a mock sob. “Tough luck, ya pansy—”</p>
<p>He didn’t get to finish as the air was abruptly knocked out of him—with great effort, Yong Soo had launched himself at the professor and tackled him mid-sentence.</p>
<p>“You don’t get to lay a finger on hyung!” he shouted, his voice a little breathless after recently recovering from being Stunned. They rolled off Yao and down the narrow aisle, and in one swift move Yong Soo punched Amycus hard in the jaw.</p>
<p>Yao made a noise somewhere between appreciation and disapproval. “I could have handled myself, you know!” he said, a little affronted that Yong Soo thought he needed a hero. “And you need to stop copying America’s behaviour!”</p>
<p>Amycus roared in fury and blasted his assailant off, sending Yong Soo tumbling halfway across the shop. With an exasperated groan, Yao suddenly noticed that the other had left his wand on the floor where he’d fallen earlier. He hurried over to scoop it up before anyone could step on it by accident.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Yong Soo shook himself out of his daze just in time to roll hastily out of the way and dive under a display table, which exploded in a colourful rain of jelly beans. Amycus threw several more curses after him, knocking piles of boxes and wrapped sweets in every direction. As Yong Soo scrambled to get closer to the professor again, he caught Yao’s eyes from a few metres away, and the next thing he knew his wand came sliding across the floor back to him. <em>Don’t be an idiot again!</em> Yao’s expression seemed to scold him.</p>
<p>“Thanks, hyung!” Yong Soo said cheerfully. He straightened up and fired back at Amycus, and their opposing spells collided in mid-air in a futile burst of yellow light.</p>
<p>The front door to the shop abruptly flung open and two cloaked figures crashed inside. Yao whirled around, immediately throwing up a Shield Charm; the shimmering barrier shuddered under the impact of a double assault of curses, and the new intruders wasted no time darting inside with their wands still pointed at him.</p>
<p>Amycus swelled up with renewed energy. “Took ya long enough!” he shouted at them. “Take ‘em down, knock ‘em out if you have to!”</p>
<p>The taller of the two cloaked figures attacked first, bellowing in a harsh male voice as he shot several jets of light which smashed like bullets into Yao’s protective dome; the shield buckled but didn’t break. Yao held his wand steady to keep the charm up while his other hand grappled blindly at the counter behind him. His fingers closed on a metal box filled with something that felt like chalk, and suddenly his arm whipped around and lobbed the box at the man like a grenade. It struck him in the forehead with a painful <em>thunk</em>; a pastel pink cloud of Explosive Fairy Dust erupted in the man’s face, making him reel back, coughing and spluttering.</p>
<p>His companion leapt over the tables in the centre of the shop, knocking aside a sign that advertised Bertie Bott’s newly released flavours, and the silvery shield disappeared as Yao hastily jumped out of the way. Something managed to catch Yao in the ankle, knotting his feet together with an invisible rope; he tripped with a painful thud behind the front counter. Above him the cash register exploded, raining coins that pelted like hail down onto his back. With a great heave Yao pulled himself back up for a split second, just long enough to fire a Stunner in his attacker’s direction before falling behind the counter once more, and the thump of a body hitting the floor told him that he’d hit his target.</p>
<p>Across the room Yong Soo and Amycus were caught up in their own duel, and in a moment of either bravery or idiocy, Yong Soo hurled himself at the professor in between curses, knocking the smaller man to the ground once again. The momentum sent the two skidding into a shelf of peppermint jars, which careened dangerously and sent glass shattering onto the floor around them. Yong Soo slammed a hand down to brace himself, hissing as glass shards cut into his palm, but in an instant he caught his opponent’s wrist and pinned him to the ground; before Amycus could even recover, another punch smashed into his temple and he was knocked out cold.</p>
<p>The time it took for Yao to untie his feet cost him valuable seconds; the remaining cloaked man had rounded on him now, forcing him to abandon his position in a hasty scramble as soon as he could move again. Yao’s next Stunner narrowly streaked past his foe’s ear; the man’s wand slashed through the air in retaliation, and Yao felt a sharp pain slice across his cheek. He touched a finger there and felt wetness.</p>
<p>“Next one’s going to be your neck!” the man snarled. He slashed again; Yao narrowly managed to dodge it. Step by step he retreated down the aisle, never taking his eyes off his foe—attack, parry, attack—until he felt his back bump into a shelf and he knew he was cornered.</p>
<p>Then all of a sudden the cloaked man was lifted into the air, some unknown force hooking underneath his arms and promptly tossing him aside like a ragdoll. His yell of protest was cut off as he hit the wall, and he slumped to the floor with a moan. Confused, Yao looked up and found himself locking eyes with the looming figure of—</p>
<p>“Russia!?” Yao stared in astonishment. Across the room, Yong Soo gaped with mixed surprise and alarm at their unexpected new ally.</p>
<p>“Hello, comrades,” Ivan said pleasantly, ignoring the feeble stirring of his victim next to them. “I wondered where you were going. You should have invited everyone if you were going to have a party.”</p>
<p>“You followed us too, aru?! But... how did you get past the cursed barrier?”</p>
<p>“Those weak English curses are child’s play,” Ivan said, and for the first time Yao noticed the thin metal water pipe in his hand, glowing faintly purple as if enveloped in some dark magical aura. “He tries so very hard, it is cute. He wanted to curse me with a chair once,” he added, with an air of remembering something humorous. “Now that was just silly.”</p>
<p>Yao shuddered. He knew that his neighbour was an incredibly good curse-breaker, and he supposed he should be thankful in this situation... but of all people who could have come to their rescue, Russia wouldn’t exactly be his first choice. Even now, relief was not exactly the emotion he felt as Ivan ambled over to the cloaked man and, without warning, brought the pipe down on his head with a dull, sickening crack.</p>
<p>“Okay, okay! That’s enough!” Yao shouted hastily, leaping to intervene before Ivan could bash the man to a pulp.</p>
<p>Ivan paused, the pipe already raised above his head a second time. “But he was trying to attack you?” he said, visibly perplexed as to why they were showing any sort of mercy. He wanted to defend his friends. Why was Yao stopping him?</p>
<p>“Yes, but if we can avoid shedding blood unnecessarily, we should,” Yao said.</p>
<p>“Oh, he would not be dying from bleeding—”</p>
<p>“Let’s try not to kill people is what I meant!”</p>
<p>“He got what he deserved!” Yong Soo said as he flounced over to join them, and he immediately grabbed his brother to get a closer look at his face. “You okay, hyung? I’ll fix that cut for you, don’t you worry! The best healing spells were invented in Korea! Hold still—”</p>
<p>“Get your hands off me!” Yao snapped, instinctively throwing him off.</p>
<p>Yong Soo froze. “I’m trying to help this time,” he said quietly. “Honest.”</p>
<p>Guilt immediately flooded Yao like a storm surge, and there was an uncomfortable silence between the two, while Ivan looked on with amusement.</p>
<p>The incoherent groan of one of the cloaked men jerked all three nations back to attention. “We are going back to the school <em>now</em>,” Yao commanded, his voice rising with renewed force, and he gave both Yong Soo and Ivan a little shove towards the cellar. Ivan pouted, clearly unhappy with the ‘party’ being disbanded so soon, but Yao was already hurrying to each unconscious man in turn, waving his wand over them and muttering a quick incantation under his breath.</p>
<p>“Whatcha doing?” Yong Soo asked, peering over his shoulder with curiosity and making no move to leave whatsoever.</p>
<p>“I’m erasing their memories of this whole fiasco,” Yao replied sharply. “We need to take the professor back as well—Russia, can you carry him?”</p>
<p>“I think I would be happy to leave him here,” Ivan said, frowning down at Amycus. If this man wanted to hurt his friends, Ivan didn’t want him anywhere nearby.</p>
<p>“It would be better to put him back where he came from, then we can all pretend that none of this ever happened.” Yao gave both the other two a critical stare. “Do not speak a <em>word</em> to anyone about this. I refuse to be the irresponsible one who gets us all kicked out!”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“‘Break-in at Honeydukes—it appears that on Thursday, there was a commotion in the popular Hogsmeade sweet shop, whereupon several residents were found injured and Obliviated, and the shop ransacked.”</p>
<p>Heracles listened quietly from the side as Terry read out the <em>Daily Prophet</em>’s headline that morning. Terry made a disgusted noise and continued to the group of Ravenclaw seventh-years sitting around them:</p>
<p>“Get a load of this tripe—‘Mudblood gangs are suspected to be the culprits. This incident is the latest in a string of crimes around the area, all likely to be Mudbloods rioting in protest of new changes in the Ministry. Residents of Hogsmeade are advised to stay alert and report any sighted Mudbloods to the authorities.’”</p>
<p>“Awful,” Anthony said, shaking his head in dismay.</p>
<p>“How much d’you want to bet it was really a Death Eater,” Michael said, stabbing his knife irritably into the jam jar. “Doubt there are many Muggle-borns wandering around the country anymore. Most of the ones I know have gone into hiding.”</p>
<p>“Wonder how Justin’s doing,” Anthony said. “Haven’t heard from him at all. Ernie’s been real cut up about it ever since school started.”</p>
<p>“Yeah... honestly, I don’t know how I’d handle it if one of you lot weren’t here,” Terry said, just as Luna drifted along the table over to where the boys were gathered.</p>
<p>“Good morning,” she said pleasantly. “Have any of you happened to see my wireless by any chance? I think it was in the tower the last time I saw it. I was planning to use it to lure a Scottish Gremlin.”</p>
<p>“Oh, was it yours?” Heracles said, looking up in mild surprise. “I’m sorry, I think we might have taken it... we hoped to use it to get news from the outside.”</p>
<p>“Can you even get non-British news from here?” Anthony asked.</p>
<p>“Kiku has been trying to figure out a way,” Heracles said. “It doesn’t look like we can so far. We want the Muggle news, which makes it harder...”</p>
<p>“Why Muggle news?” All of the students in the group seemed to grow more alert, and if Heracles wasn’t mistaken, there was at least one suspicious glance thrown his way at this new tidbit of information. The children weren’t as discreet as perhaps they thought they were, but Heracles didn’t show any signs of reacting.</p>
<p>“There are a lot of people we care for in that world,” he said vaguely. Then, to Luna, he added, “I can bring the wireless back to you...”</p>
<p>“Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” Luna said. “You can keep using it if you’d like. Just let me know if it starts floating or making any screaming noises.”</p>
<p>Heracles blinked after Luna as she wandered back to her seat, and he couldn’t help wondering what Arthur would make of this girl.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Kiku couldn’t sleep. His back was aching horribly.</p>
<p>For a long while, he stared up at the canopy of his four-poster bed, listening to the incessant rustling of sheets as Yao tossed and turned in discomfort. Heracles had done his best to soothe the sudden, inexplicable bruises that had appeared on Yao’s body and the long gash on his face, but as strong as the Grecian’s healing magic was, it wasn’t enough to allow the elder nation a peaceful sleep. It was his own fault, Kiku thought dispassionately. Since Yao refused to disclose how he’d gotten his injuries, Kiku could only suspect that he’d been doing something illicit. And he thought himself the role model of East Asia... how pitiable.</p>
<p>Yao’s bed creaked once more, and Kiku’s eyes fluttered open in annoyance. When several seconds passed, with still no promise of sleep on the horizon, he pushed himself up into a stiff sitting position, and out of habit his hand searched for a few moments on the bedside table next to him.</p>
<p>Ah, yes, he recalled suddenly. He had left the radio downstairs in the common room.</p>
<p>It had become a ritual for him and Heracles to sit quietly together at night, listening to whatever news they could get from the outside world. Over the time he spent fiddling with the antique device, Kiku concluded that it was indeed powered by magic rather than any sort of technology he was familiar with, so he couldn’t do nearly as much with it as he could with a typical Muggle electronic. It did give him a chance to practice his magical tinkering skills though; being friends with Arthur meant that Kiku wasn’t entirely uneducated about magic, but his skills were definitely rusty, as he, like most of the world, had left his country’s wizarding community alone for decades up until now.</p>
<p>Kiku’s bare feet padded silently down the stairs from the dormitories. Perhaps the noise of the radio could lull him into drowsiness.</p>
<p>It didn’t take long for him to notice something out of ordinary; there were voices coming from the Ravenclaw common room, muffled behind the heavy wooden door that separated the room from the dormitories, and hushed so that Kiku had to concentrate hard to make out the words. Even then, there were a few voices that seemed particularly far away, even crackling occasionally as though they were speaking through a very old telephone mouthpiece. He halted just before the door and listened carefully.</p>
<p>“... no evidence on who did it.”</p>
<p>“Mr and Mrs Flume have recovered, thankfully, but they were Obliviated just like the two Death Eaters found in the shop. Royal, what are your thoughts?”</p>
<p>“It does seem odd for Death Eaters to attack their own. However, we must remember that not all those who oppose us are Death Eaters, and I implore anybody who wants to fight against the regime to stay alert around any individuals who express anti-Muggle and anti-Muggle-born sentiments. It is not only You-Know-Who’s own followers that pose dangers.”</p>
<p>“Looks like you were onto something, Michael.” This voice was much louder and clearer than the rest, as though it were coming from somebody sitting right on the other side of the door. There were a few shushes in response, while the grainy, crackling voice continued speaking at the same time.</p>
<p>“... and if anyone you know is suddenly spouting love for You-Know-Who’s agenda, either they’ve been Imperiused, or they were a two-faced little git all along, so you don't have to feel guilty about hexing them.”</p>
<p>“All right, that’s all for us this time round. Stay safe out there!”</p>
<p>“For those of you wanting to tune in next time, the password will be <em>Bones</em>.”</p>
<p>“And remember—”</p>
<p>“Potterwatch will always have your back!”</p>
<p>There was an abrupt burst of static, and then silence.</p>
<p>“Well... I guess we still don’t know if whoever did it is on our side.” The voice sounded familiar, and Kiku wanted to say it was one of the Ravenclaw seventh-years he had been spending so much time with for the past several weeks.</p>
<p>“I just can’t figure out why they targeted Honeydukes,” someone else said, confused. “Mr and Mrs Flume aren’t even Muggle-born.”</p>
<p>“Maybe there was a fight nearby and Honeydukes just happened to be collateral?”</p>
<p>“If it <em>was</em> Harry, I wish we could’ve contacted him somehow. He was so close...”</p>
<p>“We don’t even know if it was him. C’mon, guys—” There was the sudden padding of footsteps against thick, plush carpet, and Kiku immediately began retreating up the stairs when he realised they were headed in his direction, back towards the entrance of the dormitories. “We should go to bed. Seventh-years have got a whole morning of Carrows tomorrow...”</p>
<p>Kiku had almost reached the nations’ room when a door creaked open behind him and dim candlelight spilled into the staircase.</p>
<p>“Mr Honda...?”</p>
<p>Impassive as always, Kiku turned around to see the surprised and guarded faces of several students looking up at him from the shadows, most of whom he recognised from classes.</p>
<p>“Good evening,” he said with a bow. “You are all up very late.”</p>
<p>“Could say the same to you,” Michael Corner said. His tone had lost the friendliness that he normally showed the nations. He squinted at Kiku, seemingly trying to make sense of something, and his next words were careful: “Were you about to go to bed? We didn’t see you come through the common room.”</p>
<p>Young as they were, these students were not fools. They were trying to figure out if he had overheard anything.</p>
<p>“I was having trouble sleeping and thought about coming down to read a book.” The lie fell easily from Kiku’s lips, and his inscrutable expression did not alter one bit. “I changed my mind, however. It gets very cold here in Scotland.”</p>
<p>The looks on their faces told him that at least some of the students were still sceptical, but none of them said anything to argue. After a few more seconds of uneasy silence, Kiku bowed again, and with only a polite “good night” to the group, he disappeared into his room.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Are you sure?” Neville said, his gaze darting around to the rest of Dumbledore’s Army. All of their faces reflected his apprehension, some looking much more alarmed than others.</p>
<p>Padma nodded. “We think they both know about Potterwatch. I managed to follow Honda when he went off on his own during lunch yesterday, and he went straight up to Kirkland’s office with the wireless.”</p>
<p>“Do you think he’s going to send Snatchers after them?” Parvati said, her eyes wide.</p>
<p>“We’ve got to warn them!” Ginny shouted, leaping to her feet, and Neville knew she was thinking of Fred and George.</p>
<p>“They’ll be fine, Ginny, they’re fighters,” he said, instinctively trying to reassure her, but he too had an anxious knot in his stomach as he watched her start to pace, not in the least reassured.</p>
<p>“Can we send an owl?” Hannah asked, chewing her lip worriedly. “Or do you think it could be intercepted?”</p>
<p>“Probably, we already know Snape’s going through the post.”</p>
<p>“Fred and George might still have their DA Galleon,” Luna suggested suddenly. “And Lee too. You could try sending them all a message on the coin.”</p>
<p>Ginny’s face lit up and she spun around to give her a beaming look. “Luna, you’re a genius!” She dug out her coin and hurriedly began tracing her wand over it. “Let’s do it now—it’s already been a day, so who knows how much longer we’ve got. If this works, I really owe Hermione one when she gets back...”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Clearing the Smoke</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jean Chrétien was the Muggle Prime Minister, who apparently had nothing to do with anything, judging by the bland, formal reply that the Canadian magical government had sent back by owl. There was nothing to contradict the story that the representatives had been telling all along.</p><p>Snape scowled as he ran through all of the information he’d collected in his mind, each new tip making less sense than the one before. Really the only useful thing that Matthew Williams had given him was a name, somebody he apparently reported to, but perhaps he was still hiding something even through the Potion Master’s best offences, because Snape could not see how a Muggle leader across the ocean was the slightest bit relevant. They were not connected to the Order, Snape was sure of that. And yet Williams had triggered the Taboo... besides that, the only pertinent detail he’d managed to pick up was that all of the representatives seemed to know Arthur Kirkland very well.</p><p>Kirkland. Indeed a man from an old pureblood family, and as far as Snape could see, had no exploits that made it to the pages of wizarding history. In fact, he seemed to have spent most of his life in the Muggle world, save for the few years he came to teach at Hogwarts alongside Dumbledore. Snape could not afford to leave the school alone for too long, so his investigations into Kirkland’s past had stopped at Inverness, where a red-haired, foul-mouthed Scottish man managed to hex him before slamming the door in his face.</p><p>Snape rubbed his still-stinging ear irritably. Where to go from here? Kirkland had been old friends with Dumbledore; yet again however, Snape thought with mutiny, Dumbledore did not feel the need to give him any information that might help.</p><p>“Up late again, Severus?”</p><p>Piercing blue eyes watched amusedly from the portrait behind the Headmaster’s desk, and though Snape had not turned to look at him, he could feel himself being scrutinised just like all of the exchanges they’d had when Dumbledore was living.</p><p>Snape refused to give him the courtesy of an answer.</p><p>“I do hope you’re not letting this little puzzle distract you from what you need to do.”</p><p>“I wonder sometimes,” Snape said suddenly, his voice bitter like a winter’s chill, “if you’ve ever trusted me as much as you’ve claimed.”</p><p>“The fact that I am mere wood and paint now, rather than standing next to you, I thought would be enough to allay that particular fear,” Dumbledore said.</p><p>They both sat in silence. From the far wall, the rumbling snores of Armando Dippet paused briefly as he mumbled something in his sleep, then he rolled over in his portrait and resumed snoring again.</p><p>“I presume you haven’t relayed anything you’ve learnt to Amycus or Alecto?” Dumbledore inquired at last, entirely calm, as though he already expected the reply.</p><p>Snape flicked his wand to extinguish the lamp on his desk, and he answered without glancing up. “I saw no particular reason they needed to know.”</p>
<hr/><p>“Tell me what happened.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Alfred, don’t be a stubborn prat.”</p><p>“Why do you wanna know so badly?”</p><p>“Why are you so eager to hide it?”</p><p>Alfred glared. “You’re not supposed to answer a question with a question, y’know.”</p><p>“Stop trying to dodge the subject,” Arthur sighed.</p><p>“Man, this teaching business really got to you, huh? Never seen you be so patient before.”</p><p>“<em>America</em>—”</p><p>“Okay, okay!” Alfred couldn’t help thinking he spoke too soon as a bite of irritation crept into Arthur’s voice. “So I might have ran off by myself for a bit, okay? And then I saw you standing there—or I <em>thought</em> it was you anyway, but really it was a shapeshifter that made you look like you were dead, so I was like ‘Artie, what the hell’ and then you yelled some things at me, which—”</p><p>He broke off abruptly, averting his eyes with an expression akin to guilt. Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Which?”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>“For christ’s sake, Alfred, finish your damn sentences—”</p><p>“Which made me feel like shit, okay?” Alfred burst out, his head whipping up to glare at Arthur. “You said stuff about how I’ll always be a failure and no matter how hard I try, I’m going to be the reason the world’s gonna crash and burn, ‘cause I’m not strong enough to save it! There, I said it, geez! You <em>know</em> it was a boggart, you don’t need me to say it out loud! Just wanna rub it in my face, huh?”</p><p>“Don’t bite my head off!” Arthur snapped. “I just asked you a simple question because I wanted to make sure you were all right!” He realized what he’d blurted out a second too late and turned a rather violent shade of red, but continued: “Clearly you don’t appreciate that I’m not a heartless monster, so maybe I shouldn’t have even bothered!”</p><p>“Maybe you shouldn’t have!” Alfred threw back in Arthur’s face. “It’s not like you care anyway! You probably even agree with your evil ghost self!”</p><p>“What, that you’re going to be the one who decides the future of this entire planet? I swear, the sheer arrogance of your inflated head sometimes—”</p><p>“Well, <em>I’m</em> gonna do more than <em>you</em> either way, you coward!”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arthur said, flaring up at the insult.</p><p>“You had this whole spiel about how you’re coming to protect Harry Potter and keep the school safe, but look at you now!” Alfred threw an arm out to gesture around the small office. “Turns out Harry Potter’s not here and all of a sudden you’re giving up? You’re not doing anything! So now the baddies are taking over, what the hell else do you expect!”</p><p>“Shut your mouth, you don’t even know what you’re talking about!” Arthur shouted. “Unless <em>you</em> can somehow find Potter and learn what his plan is—oi, don’t actually run off, you idiot!” His wand whipped like lightning, freezing Alfred in his tracks just as he’d started to bolt towards the door.</p><p>“C’mon, England,” Alfred said, trying to fight against the charm with every muscle in his body. “I always knew you were a Debbie Downer, but I never thought you were <em>stupid</em>!”</p><p>“<em>What was that?</em>”</p><p>“Look, that kid’s the Chosen One, you said so yourself! It ain’t rocket science—go find him, find Mouldyshorts and put ‘em together, problem solved!”</p><p>“Oh, for the love of—” Arthur looked about ready to wring his neck. “You always think everything’s so goddamn simple!”</p><p>“Well, <em>you</em> come up with a better idea then! Oh wait, you can’t,” Alfred taunted spitefully. “That’s how you ended up here in the first place—”</p><p>“<em>Get out</em>!” Arthur spat, suddenly releasing Alfred from the Freezing Charm and punting him towards the door. The younger nation was all too eager to obey. He threw one last furious look over his shoulder before storming out, slamming the door violently behind him.</p><p>Arthur sank back into his chair, fuming. Alfred had no idea what he was talking about, that imbecile! Brash and disrespectful and presumptuous—it was easy for him to be all high and mighty when he wasn’t the one stuck in the middle of a damn war, he wasn’t the one who’d seen what had happened to the magical world the first time Voldemort came to power! He was a child who had no bloody clue, and yet he had the absolute <em>gall</em> to lecture Arthur about what he should and shouldn’t do?</p><p>Abruptly, Arthur stood up and stormed over to the open window. For a few minutes he simply leaned on the stone windowsill, feeling the biting sting of cold from atop the windy tower, and he shut his eyes, trying to calm the still violent pounding of his heart. Only when the anger in his blood started to ebb away did he really begin to think about Alfred’s words.</p><p>He was still furious with him, oh yes. But Alfred’s scathing accusations struck more than one nerve with him. Perhaps it was the faint but uneasy fear in the back of Arthur’s mind, ever present since the day he arrived at Hogwarts and found Harry Potter missing from the Gryffindor table, that he’d miscalculated—that there wasn’t much he could contribute to the fight against Voldemort after all. It would make him feel impotent, not the kind of feeling the former empire liked nor tolerated, and so he had simply shoved that thought away.</p><p>His mind floated back to the chat he’d had with Kiku the day before. The quiet, astute nation had come to his office bearing a wireless and an odd story about some secret broadcast he’d overheard, but Arthur had been quick to dismiss it; the broadcast was tailored towards the locals, most likely, a guerilla resistance that was admirable but didn’t help Arthur very much from his position within Hogwarts. Since then, he’d put it out of his mind, trying to think of other ways he could figure out Dumbledore’s plan and get into contact with the supposed Chosen One.</p><p>Now, however, he glanced at his own wireless on his desk, dusty and forgotten and buried among piles of half-marked essays, and a faint crease appeared in his forehead.</p><p>“‘Potterwatch’, huh...”</p>
<hr/><p>Alfred stormed down the staircase towards the classrooms, his vision still blazing red. He only had a vague idea of where he was headed; he didn’t even know if the people he was hunting for were going to be there, but he swore he would find them, even if he had to run up and down the entire castle all night.</p><p>“Er... Mr Jones?”</p><p>“What?” Alfred snapped, whirling around, only to see Neville looking rather startled on the steps behind him.</p><p>“S-sorry,” Neville said, blinking nervously. “Erm… are you all right?”</p><p>“No, I’m done with this! I’m gonna go find those psychopaths and teach them a lesson once and for all! I’ll show <em>him</em>—” Alfred slammed a fist into the banister, making Neville jump.</p><p>“Who are you talking about?”</p><p>“Those evil tyrants that call themselves teachers! They’ve gotten away with too much already!”</p><p>“The Carrows? You’re—you’re not going to take them on your own, are you?” Neville asked, shocked. “Right now?!”</p><p>“Damn right I am!”</p><p>“They’ll kill you!” The last word came out as a squeak of horror as Neville grappled for Alfred’s arm, as though he could physically prevent him from leaving.</p><p>“I don’t care! If no one else in this frickin’ place is gonna do anything, I will!” Alfred’s already loud voice was getting even more so with each word, and Neville’s eyes darted around for any signs of the Death Eaters, in case the devil heard them speaking then and there.</p><p>“Right, er—maybe let’s not do anything rash?” Neville suggested hastily, wondering if he’d technically be an accomplice if he let Alfred off right now to murder somebody.</p><p>Alfred looked at him again and was about to retort, but when Neville put out both hands in a ‘<em>calm down</em>’ gesture, he stopped. And in that brief pause, he managed to reel his temper back in, if only for a moment; maybe it was because something about this kid reminded him of Matthew, the only person who could act as a voice of caution in the face of America’s recklessness.</p><p>“Sorry,” Alfred muttered at last, and it was a great effort for him not to set off again in frustration. “Artie’s pissed me off real good, that stupid old man—he always thinks I don’t know what I’m doing.”</p><p>“Professor Kirkland...?”</p><p>“Yeah, we got into a fight,” Alfred said petulantly. He glanced down and scuffed his shoe on the stairs as he shrugged. “Nothing new. Told me I can’t just go find Harry Potter and defeat Mouldyshorts, and yeah, maybe I’ll have to figure stuff out as I go, but at least something’s getting <em>done</em>! I can’t just do nothing while he’s sitting there with a thumb up his ass! And I guess I just got so pissed off, all I could think was what <em>can</em> I do, and if no one else is going after those Carrow bastards, it’s up to the hero to take the lead! Yeah, everyone gets pissed that I stick my nose in everything, but it’s like, I feel this <em>responsibility</em> to make the world a better place! ‘Cause that’s what a hero does, right?” His voice took on a note that verged on desperation.</p><p>Throughout the entire tirade, Neville simply stared at Alfred with a strange expression, intrigue and doubt and confusion all visibly conflicted on his face.</p><p>“Can I show you something?” he blurted out all of a sudden.</p><p>Alfred cocked his head, momentarily distracted from his thoughts of vengeance. “Uh... sure? What’s up?”</p><p>Neville glanced around nervously, and he lowered his voice even though the rest of the staircase was deserted, the only echo of voices coming from students returning from lunch in some distant part of the castle. “Come to the common room on Thursday after dinner. I’ll explain then.”</p>
<hr/><p>Alfred went down to the Gryffindor common room Thursday evening to find Neville and Ginny waiting for him, and surprisingly, Elizabeta as well.</p><p>“Yo! Is she coming too?” Alfred asked Neville, jerking his head towards his fellow nation, who scowled at him.</p><p>“I’m right here,” she snipped. “And yes, these two have also invited me for this little adventure. They still won’t tell me what it is though.”</p><p>“You’ll see,” Ginny said. “Now, we’ve got to be quiet. Just follow us, we’ve got the way down by now.”</p><p>Indeed, it was like the two students had done this dozens of times before; they knew exactly how to open the common room door without it squeaking on its hinges, when to hop over a floorboard that creaked too much, and which portraits were the loud, loose-lipped ones so that they could avoid them as they darted unseen through the ill-lighted corridors. Alfred and Elizabeta followed as closely as they could, trying at the same time to memorise the path and figure out where exactly they were being led.</p><p>It came as a surprise when Ginny and Neville stopped in the middle of a seemingly random corridor not far from where they’d left the dozing Fat Lady behind. It was one of the plainer ones they’d seen, without much in way of ornamentation besides a huge, strange tapestry depicting trolls prancing around in tutus. Neither nation knew quite what to expect when Ginny started pacing in front of one spot in particular—but a door materialising out of nowhere on the ancient stone wall was certainly not it.</p><p>Elizabeta stared. Alfred on the other hand recovered quickly, cocking an eyebrow and eagerly following Ginny inside. Growing up around Arthur, he’d definitely seen weirder.</p><p>The first thought Alfred had was that this was a hideout, and he had a brief vision of a top secret bunker with massive diagrams slapped all over the walls, pins and strings on corkboards, maybe a stack of manila envelopes labelled Classified with a capital C. He was slightly disappointed when he clambered into the room and instead saw tables, cushions, and lots and lots of books; an imposing stone fireplace flickered at the far end, where a large, scruffy orange cat was lounging disinterestedly, and all of the students who were scattered around the room let their conversations trail off as they turned as one to stare.</p><p>Behind him, Elizabeta also seemed mildly underwhelmed by the big reveal, but she hid it from her face much better than Alfred did.</p><p>“Is this some sort of hidden classroom?” she asked as Neville shut the door behind them and locked it with a loud, satisfying click.</p><p>“Sort of—we call it the Room of Requirement. And this,” he said, glancing at all the students around them, “is Dumbledore’s Army.”</p><p>The nations went ahead and made themselves comfortable on cushions, sensing a long story behind this. As Alfred flopped down, sprawling his legs out in a manner that definitely would have earned him a rap on the head and a strict scolding from Arthur, he didn’t notice Seamus and Parvati throwing him looks of distrust from across the room. It seemed that the memory of him yelling in Professor McGonagall’s face was still not forgotten.</p><p>“We started this thing two years ago,” Ginny began, sitting down cross-legged next to them. “There was this awful woman from the Ministry who’d come to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, except she wouldn’t let us do any magic in her class and would give horrible punishments for speaking up against her.”</p><p>“Just like the professors now?” Elizabeta asked, appalled.</p><p>“Oh no,” Neville said, shaking his head. “Carrows are worse, I reckon.”</p><p>“But this was when You-Know-Who had just come back, so we needed to learn how to defend ourselves,” Ginny said. “So a... few friends of ours had the idea to have secret classes to learn how to fight, and that became the D.A.”</p><p>“Damn, you guys get stuff done,” Alfred said, impressed. “Why’s it Dumbledore’s Army though? The dude’s dead, isn’t he?”</p><p>The bluntness of his question caught all of the students off-guard; they gaped at him, some horrified, others offended, and Elizabeta elbowed the tactless American hard in the ribs.</p><p>“There was a lot of nonsense coming from the Ministry at the time,” Ernie said, looking rather displeased. “They thought Professor Dumbledore was building an army to overthrow Fudge, which was utterly ridiculous of course—”</p><p>“Oh, I did think their dryad theory was a good one though,” Luna piped up. “It’s probably why Fudge amassed so many heliopaths to fight against them...”</p><p>“Anyway, Dumbledore never did anything like that,” Neville clarified quickly. “But the name fit, we’re always going to stay loyal to him and fight in his name.” He hesitated. “Even now.”</p><p>“Huh.” Alfred frowned. “Hey, speaking of, what happened to him? ‘Cause like, I dunno about you, Elizabeta, but I heard all these stories about how he was invincible and stuff, and we never actually got told what did him in.”</p><p>Neville cast his eyes down to the carpet. “Er... well...”</p><p>“Snape murdered him,” Ginny said, her eyes suddenly blazing. “Some of us were down there fighting off Death Eaters when it happened—Dumbledore always trusted him even though he used to be one of You-Know-Who’s cronies, but it turned out he was lying the whole time, and now we have Death Eaters at Hogwarts trying to turn it into a school for the Dark Arts.”</p><p>“So you’re taking matters into your own hands again,” Elizabeta finished, and all the pieces fell into place. “This isn’t just about learning how to fight though, is it? Seeing as you children have been busy vandalising things and causing mayhem.” She looked pointedly at Neville, Ginny, and Luna in particular; Neville blushed slightly, while Ginny flashed them roguish smirk and Luna hummed in mild amusement.</p><p>“Wasn’t just them,” Seamus said, puffing out his chest boastfully. “Weasley’s got the brilliant ideas, and the rest of us go out and run with it.”</p><p>“If only the Carrows knew which messages you wrote, reckon they’d come down on you even harder than us,” Ginny snickered.</p><p>“Aw shucks, Weasley, you’ll make me blush,” Seamus said with a cheeky grin.</p><p>“We’re going to show Snape and those Carrows that they haven’t got as good a hold on us as they think,” Michael said, also looking quite self-satisfied. “Neville says that you’ve been helping them out a lot, so we all agreed we could trust you enough to bring you in.”</p><p>“Sorry it took so long,” Neville said abashedly. “We just had to make sure...”</p><p>“Don’t be silly,” Elizabeta said with a smile. “Like I’ve told you, we want to help, but it’s good to be a little cautious in times like these.”</p><p>“I don’t think any of us doubted you after you gave us the password to the Headmaster’s office,” Luna said brightly, her wide grey eyes drifting over to Elizabeta. “It was much easier than finding a Golden Glumbumble and making imitation Felix Felicis. I don’t think I had a chance to thank you, it was all very busy at the time.”</p><p>“Wait, so basically you’re responsible for the whole office break-in thing?” Alfred said to his fellow nation. “Aw, c’mon, you should go tell Artie! Then he can get off my case about it.”</p><p>“How come you know Snape’s password?” Terry couldn’t help asking.</p><p>“We’ve been there before, when we went to go talk to that jackass Headmaster about my brother.” A scowl passed over Alfred’s face at the memory.</p><p>“Speaking of which, is Mr Williams okay?” Neville asked, chewing his lip.</p><p>“He’s recovered really well,” Hannah said. “Still tired, of course, but it’s sort of amazing, I don’t know if any of us could have gotten over the Cruciatus Curse that fast... He wants to thank you for bringing his bear back too.”</p><p>“Hey, it’s no sweat! The hero saves the day, that’s just what I do!”</p><p>“Right,” Elizabeta said, moving on before Alfred could launch into one of his big-headed speeches. “We really do appreciate you children putting your faith in us. And it’s nice that we have this room now, so we can talk freely.”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s sort of like our base,” Ginny said. “You saw how to get in right? Just walk past that spot in the wall three times and think about what you need, and it’ll open for you.”</p><p>“Most of the time one of us’ll already be in here though,” Neville said. “We’ll call you whenever we have a meeting—here—”</p><p>He dug into his pocket and handed each nation what appeared to be a regular gold coin.</p><p>“We communicate with these, see—”</p><p>He tapped his wand on his own Galleon, changing the numbers so that they read “DA 14 10 1930”: the fourteenth of October at half seven. Within seconds, Alfred and Elizabeta felt their coins heat up in their hands, and checking them revealed that the serial numbers had changed as well to match Neville’s message.</p><p>“Protean Charm,” Ernie explained proudly. “I made a couple of extras for you two. Been meaning to have some practice with it, since Professor Flitwick said it might show up on the N.E.W.T.—”</p><p>“Mate, you’d think N.E.W.T.s would be the least of your problems this year,” Terry said, rolling his eyes.</p><p>“Says the Ravenclaw,” Parvati quipped.</p><p>“Well, <em>I</em> care about getting something out of my education,” Ernie said haughtily. “Just because you and Corner prefer to spend class time making eyes at each other—”</p><p>“Shut up,” Michael and Terry said simultaneously, both turning slightly pink.</p><p>“Anyway,” Ginny said, raising her voice, “we try to meet a few times a month, although this year it might be harder with the extra patrols skulking round.”</p><p>“We were also wondering...” Neville hesitated. He caught Luna’s eye, who gave him an encouraging smile. “Er... if you have any useful spells that you could teach us, we could use your help. A lot.”</p><p>“Of course, dude!” Alfred punched the air, beaming. “Leave it to us! Just call me Professor Jones from now on!”</p><p>“Don’t get carried away, Alfred,” Elizabeta scolded him. “We’re very much out of practice, I’m sorry to say. There are some of us who’ve kept in touch with their magic more than others, we could ask—”</p><p>“No,” Ginny cut in warningly, and her expression hardened into one of steely resolve. “Don’t tell any of those other representatives about this. We’re still trying to figure out whether we can trust them—especially Ravenclaw.”</p><p>“Huh? Why’s that?” Alfred’s excitement turned slowly to bafflement. Kiku was in Ravenclaw! There was no way Alfred was going to join a secret rebel organisation without telling one of his best friends!</p><p>Ginny and Neville exchanged a wordless look, but it was Luna who spoke up, candid as ever. “We think they might have endangered some of our friends,” she said seriously. “One of them seemed to have overheard a secret broadcast our friends made, and he went to tell Professor Kirkland straight away.”</p><p>Elizabeta frowned. “I’ve told you before, haven’t I? Arthur is on your side.”</p><p>“What secret broadcast?” Alfred said at the same time, his face lighting up. “Like secret messages? Ciphers? Yo, that’s wicked, I wanna do that! I’m awesome at it too, do you know how many codes I cracked back in the old days? I bet Kiku would be all over this too, I promise you guys, if you just let him join and no one else—”</p><p>“No!” Ginny repeated with finality. “Sorry if you’re friends, but even if you’re keen on helping us, it doesn’t mean they are too. My brothers were part of that broadcast and I’m not trusting anyone who rats them out!”</p><p>This news managed to startle Alfred into silence. The other students looked on awkwardly, with the Ravenclaws in particular scrutinising both nations for their reaction.</p><p>Elizabeta frowned. “Well... all right then,” she said. “I can’t say I agree, but if it matters so much to you, we’ll respect your wishes. <em>Won’t we, Jones</em>?” she added with a sudden, burning glare at Alfred, one that made a few students edge away discreetly.</p><p>“Eep! Okay, okay!” Alfred said. “Why are you looking at me like I’m an idiot, geez?”</p><p>“Oh, don’t get me started, Arthur’s told me enough stories—”</p><p>“You didn’t actually have to answer that, y’know, and also Artie thinks I’m an idiot no matter what I do—”</p><p>As the two nations began to squabble, Hannah leaned over to murmur quietly in Neville’s ear. “Do you think... this is the right choice?”</p><p>“You should’ve heard him on the staircase,” Neville replied. “I just had a feeling... for a second, it was almost like having Harry back.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the delay! Went hiking over the weekend and didn't have time to post before leaving, but I'm going to backdate this one just to keep things consistent.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Expecto Patronum</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Three hollow echoes resounded down the corridor as Ludwig rapped on Arthur’s office door.</p>
<p>“Hang on!” came a faint shout from inside. Ludwig’s forehead creased as he heard a string of quiet, strangled hissing noises, and he leaned in a bit closer. There was a slam of a lid, steady footsteps, and then the door opened to reveal Arthur looking rather more bedraggled than usual.</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s you,” he said indifferently. He turned right back around and headed for his desk, leaving his visitor to enter with stiff strides. Ludwig’s gaze swept critically across the room: papers were strewn everywhere, books littered the floor, and a long banner was strung across the wall, bearing a drawing of what seemed like a boy with messy black hair and a lightning bolt on his forehead, with the words “<em>LONG LIVE HARRY POTTER</em>” scrawled underneath. Against the far wall was a large tank with a black, winged serpent laying inside, curled up in apparent slumber.</p>
<p>“This mess isn’t my fault,” Arthur snapped before Ludwig could say a word. “Someone broke into my office last night and bloody vandalised the place. Been spending the whole afternoon trying to clean it up.”</p>
<p>“Is that so?” Ludwig said. “I thought a beast had gotten loose.” His gaze drifted to the serpent, who lifted its head in a slow, lazy motion and stared back with minimal interest.</p>
<p>“Her? Oh, no.” Arthur waved a nonchalant hand at the creature as though it were nothing more exciting than a toad. “She’s well-behaved—I’m using her for a class, after all. I just let her out for some exercise earlier, so I had to put her back before you came in.”</p>
<p>“So it’s not dangerous?”</p>
<p>“I’ve got ways of keeping her under control,” Arthur said shortly.</p>
<p>It didn’t take long for Ludwig to put two and two together. “That hissing noise just now—did that come from you?”</p>
<p>Arthur paused to stare at him, and then muttered under his breath, “They really need to improve the soundproofing in these walls.”</p>
<p>“I will take that as a yes.” Ludwig eyed him with a slight hint of suspicion. “Were you doing something wrong? You seem to want to hide it.”</p>
<p>“Not wrong, no, but you weren’t supposed to hear that.” Arthur hesitated briefly, and then sighed. “I speak Parseltongue. Language of snakes. Had the ability since I was a child, but it was my old tutor who really brought it out.” A distant, timeworn look passed over his eyes. “He insisted that I learn to become fluent... he was proud of it.”</p>
<p>Ludwig grunted. “That is impressive. I’m surprised you would keep it a secret for so long.”</p>
<p>“Well, it hasn’t exactly got the best reputation,” Arthur said with a bitter smile. “Parseltongue’s been associated with Dark wizards for ages, so you can imagine why I’m not in the habit of flaunting it.”</p>
<p>The serpent beat its wings loudly against the glass, and this seemed to break Arthur out of his reminiscent mood. “Right—you wanted to talk to me about something?”</p>
<p>Ludwig belied no sign of surprise from the sudden change in topic. Facing Arthur squarely and sternly, he began speaking as though to an officer in a tactics meeting: “Some of the things that are happening at this school are unacceptable.”</p>
<p>“You needn’t come all the way here to tell me that,” came the brusque response, along with an impatient eyeroll. “I did suspect that out of everybody, you and Prussia would have the biggest qualms about the whole thing. You don’t seem very keen to step out of line though.”</p>
<p>“Rules must be adhered to,” Ludwig said stiffly. “If there is no order, there is no progress.”</p>
<p>“If you can get that through the others’ thick skulls, I’ll owe you for the rest of time,” Arthur grumbled.</p>
<p>“Still, I hope you are doing something about the situation.”</p>
<p>“Oh, not you too,” Arthur snapped. At Ludwig’s raised eyebrow, he averted his eyes and added under his breath something about “America” and “presumptuous arse”, and that was enough for Ludwig to guess what happened. “Don’t get me wrong!” Arthur added defensively. “I would prefer not to have these hooligans running my school either, but I don’t really fancy the Dark Lord chasing after me for the murder of his lackeys.”</p>
<p>He turned away and gave his wand a stubborn little flick, and papers began sweeping themselves into a pile on the floor, to be sorted through and organised later.</p>
<p>“I do have some things planned,” he continued in a slightly petulant tone. “You lot aren’t going to see it, it’s for the younger students, but there are dark creatures in the Defence syllabus that I know Amycus isn’t going to bother with. At least it’ll get them practising some sort of defensive magic.”</p>
<p>“I see.” Ludwig considered this information. “So you plan on playing this by stealth.”</p>
<p>“Well, I haven’t got a bloody lot to work with, do I?” Rationally, Arthur knew he was taking his frustration out on the wrong person, but everything that had been going wrong ever since the start of the term—Alfred’s idiocy, Dumbledore’s unhelpfulness, the concern that Snape was already suspecting that the nations weren’t as they seemed—all of it boiled over in that one moment. His wand waved again, a bit too forcefully this time, and a few of the papers accidentally ripped as they flew into the pile.</p>
<p>Ludwig stared down at him, unimpressed. “I suppose you’re doing what you can within the limits we have,” he conceded, though his expression was still stony with disapproval. “I hope these covert lessons of yours will be useful, at least.”</p>
<p>“Do I really come off as that rubbish of a teacher?” Arthur said, affronted. “I taught Defence Against the Dark Arts the last time I was here, I’ll have you know. Something like a Patronus might be above their level, but even if they just knew how to do a proper Shield Charm, or a Stunning Spell...”</p>
<p>“Patronus?”</p>
<p>Arthur halted in the middle of his cleaning to aim his wand at the ceiling, and suddenly a massive silver creature erupted from the tip, startling Ludwig. The lion loped nimbly in circles around the room, stopping once in front of the German to stare at him, its whiskers quivering; then it shook its enormous, pearly mane and bounded through the glass window to dissipate into the sky, vanishing into nothingness in a brilliant wisp of light.</p>
<p>“They protect against dementors,” Arthur explained. “Who knows, it might save the students one day since the Dark Lord’s got an army of them, and they’re crawling all over the school grounds now.” He shook his head in distaste.</p>
<p>Ludwig furrowed his brow. Then, after a thoughtful pause, he asked: “Will you teach us that?”</p>
<p>Arthur blinked. “Teach you how to cast a Patronus?”</p>
<p>“Yes—all of us. Since we are affected so much worse by those... things... it would be useful to know.”</p>
<p>Now that was something that hadn’t occurred to Arthur. Ludwig was right; dementors had the capability to bring a nation down with terrifying ease. The trouble was... “It’s not exactly an easy spell, you know,” Arthur said, frowning.</p>
<p>“You said you were going to teach it to the students.”</p>
<p>“Just the basics, the incantation and all that. A corporeal Patronus like I’ve just done takes an immense amount of skill and practice, and even then, some people never manage it.”</p>
<p>“Then we will keep practicing until we do,” Ludwig said brusquely. “I will drill every single one of them throughout the night if I have to.”</p>
<p>Arthur let out a small, humourless chuckle. He had no doubt about that.</p>
<p>“Well, if you can manage to wrangle the others, I’ve no problem with it. Though I can’t sneak around with you lot, I’ve actually got work to do, but I’ll show you how to do the charm and you can take it from there.” After all, if there was any nation whom Arthur could trust to lead an exercise like this, it would be the sensible, rule-abiding one nodding stiffly at him as though he were just assigned to a military mission. “Haven’t got any beer, but there’s always a stash of whiskey in here if you need it,” Arthur added dryly. “Let me know how it goes, will you?”</p>
<p>When Ludwig left the office twenty minutes later, focused on committing what Arthur had taught him to memory, it didn’t take long before he heard echoed murmurs and the orderly shuffling of dozens of feet on cold, polished stone; the students were on break, it seemed. Most of them tended to cling to their groups and file straight back to their common room, as though a predator would suddenly swoop in to punish them if they dared do otherwise.</p>
<p>One voice abruptly rose above the rest, and its familiarity made Ludwig narrow his eyes and hasten his footsteps immediately.</p>
<p>“<em>Say that to my face, Klugscheißer!”</em></p>
<p>A few of the younger Slytherins squeaked in panic as a thud rang throughout the corridor, and all of a sudden a space cleared around Gilbert, who had grabbed Vincent Crabbe by the collar and shoved him against the wall.</p>
<p>“Not gonna apologise to no Mudblood lover,” Crabbe choked back, his voice breathless and surprisingly soft. His beady eyes searched the group until they found Malfoy, but the blond didn’t move, instead averting his gaze from the display of power and anger in front of them. Beside him, Francis touched a finger to the grim line of his lips, observing silently.</p>
<p>“You think I want your puny ass apology?” Gilbert snarled. “Come at me, I’ll wreck your stupid fat face, you little—”</p>
<p>“Beilschmidt!” The ringing voice of Professor McGonagall drew every eye as she came hurrying over, and Gilbert felt an invisible force wrenching him and Crabbe apart, releasing the boy from his grip. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, staring both of them down with censure.</p>
<p>“He started it, professor!” Crabbe grunted, pointing a stubby finger at Gilbert.</p>
<p>“Nobody hurts Feli and gets away with it!” Gilbert shouted.</p>
<p>“He’s just some snivelling little Hufflepuff—”</p>
<p>With a roar, Gilbert lunged at Crabbe again, who swiped his wand wildly in retaliation; someone screamed, and Francis bolted forward as red spurted from the huge, ragged gash that suddenly tore into Gilbert’s thigh.</p>
<p>“Enough!” McGonagall said sharply, and a shimmering silver barrier erupted between the two, blocking anyone else from approaching. “That’s two weeks’ worth of detention for you, Mr Crabbe, and I will remind you that no Dark magic is to be used within these walls.”</p>
<p>“Professor Carrow said—”</p>
<p>“Professor Carrow is not here at the moment, and as long as I teach at this school, I will ensure that that rule will be enforced,” McGonagall said with commanding finality.</p>
<p>“Bruder.” Ludwig now joined the crowd, which hastily parted for him as he marched to the centre of the commotion.</p>
<p>“That little punk attacked Feli!” Gilbert said, outrage numbing the wound that was seeping blood into his robes. Anger suddenly reared in Ludwig like a snake, and as one, the students retreated a few frightened steps away as he made to storm around McGonagall to reach Crabbe, who was now cowering behind her. No sooner had he grabbed Crabbe by the arm than McGonagall forced him to release the boy with a snap of her wand. She stepped between the two of them, standing tall even as the much larger German towered over her, and arched an eyebrow coolly.</p>
<p>“I will also remind the two of you,” she said, “that the job of discipline falls to the staff of Hogwarts. Unacceptable as his behaviour may be, I will not tolerate threats of harm on any student in this school.”</p>
<p>Ludwig, who until now had held great respect for most of the teachers, stared at her with visible displeasure. He wanted to make sure justice struck down the one who was responsible! If it were either Amycus or Alecto speaking to him right now, there was no doubt that Ludwig would have already shoved them out of the way, and he would be interrogating this Crabbe boy himself, knowing that both Carrows would be more than happy to let him get away with whatever he did.</p>
<p>McGonagall’s words were like a bucket of ice water on his temper, however. It wouldn’t do for any nation to assault a student, however deserving that student may have been. It would be much more than overstepping; Ludwig had to remind himself that even the oldest ones were only seventeen.</p>
<p>He wasn’t happy about it, but out of all the teachers he’d met, the strict, stalwart woman in front of him was probably the one whose judgment he trusted most... which was why, eventually, he gave her a stiff nod and seized Gilbert by the shoulder.</p>
<p>“Very well. I will take my brother to the medic for his leg. I expect him—” he glared at Crabbe “—to be punished appropriately for this.”</p>
<p>“You can be rest assured, Beilschmidt, that most of us do not condone this sort of barbarity,” McGonagall said. She dispelled the barrier, and to the rest of the students who were still watching with bated breath, she added sternly, “Off with the rest of you. Mr Crabbe, come with me.”</p>
<p>Gilbert yelled several German insults at Crabbe’s back, even as they were both escorted in opposite directions, and Ludwig found himself half-dragging his brother down the corridor towards the hospital wing.</p>
<p>“What happened?” Ludwig asked tersely.</p>
<p>“I heard him bragging!” Gilbert fumed. “He was practicing some dark shit for that Carrow Arschloch, and he used Feli as a punching bag!”</p>
<p>Thunderous fury rose in Ludwig again, and it took all his willpower not to turn around right then and there.</p>
<p>“Where is Feliciano now?” he demanded.</p>
<p>“No idea, I was gonna beat the answer outta that punk! He talks a tough game, but we’ll see who cries when the awesome me socks him in his puny little—”</p>
<p>“Ludwig! Gilbert!”</p>
<p>Both Germans’ heads whipped up at the sound of a familiar voice. Brown eyes bright as ever and hair curl bouncing, Feliciano broke away from his own brother and ran down the length of the corridor to jump onto Ludwig, who grunted and allowed the momentum to spin them around.</p>
<p>“Ve, I finally found you!” Feliciano’s voice burst with both relief and brimming tears as though they hadn’t seen each other for centuries, even though the last time they’d separated was probably no more than an hour ago. He latched both arms and legs around Ludwig’s torso, hanging off him like a lanky, copper-haired koala. “I got really sad when you didn’t come visit me in the hospital wing, even though fratellone was with me! I just wished you were there to kiss everything better!” Feliciano’s voice was muffled in the crook of Ludwig’s neck as he babbled.</p>
<p>Frowning, Ludwig pried him off. “Were you hurt?”</p>
<p>“On my back, I didn’t see it coming and it was so bad, Madam Pomfrey said it’s because Dark magic hurts worse—”</p>
<p>“And because you’re a crybaby!” Lovino interjected as he caught up to them.</p>
<p>Feliciano sniffled and pulled down the collar of his robe. Peeking over his shoulder were several crisscrossing wounds, thick and red with the beginnings of scar tissue creeping around the edges; they ran over the bone to disappear underneath the fabric covering his back. Ludwig felt a harsh, sickening wallop in his stomach. After a moment’s hesitation, he leaned down to press his lips briefly on the injury.</p>
<p>“Sorry it’s late,” he mumbled, but Feliciano’s face lit up like the sun, which was all the reward he needed.</p>
<p>“Thank god we found you,” Lovino grouched loudly, not at all concerned that he was interrupting a tender moment. “Don’t think I could’ve stayed in that place much longer, especially with this idiot crying all over me.”</p>
<p>“It’s okay, Madam Pomfrey didn’t even keep us that long!” Feliciano said. “I think she was surprised by how fast I healed! She was still worried so she gave me some medicine to help—ah, Gilbert, what happened to your leg?!” His eyes widened when he finally noticed that Gilbert was dripping blood all over the floor.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about me!” Gilbert boasted. His mood had lifted by leaps and bounds when he saw that the Italian brothers were, though a little shaken, still all right, and he tried to laugh off his own injuries just like he used to when he was an invincible empire. “I made sure the brat didn’t get away with it! Scars you get from revenge are the coolest, so this’ll just make me even more awesome!”</p>
<p>“Stop being an idiot!” Lovino yelled, wincing as Gilbert swept his robe out of the way and showed the mess in all its grisly glory. “Veneziano, give him the bottle!”</p>
<p>At the sound of his brother’s voice, Feliciano snapped out of his horrified staring. “Oh yeah!” Hastily, he took out a small glass bottle that was filled to the brim with a thick, muddy yellow liquid, and he thrust it in the air like he was presenting a trophy. “This is what Madam Pomfrey gave me for my cuts! I think you need it more than I do though...”</p>
<p>“Perhaps afterwards. We were just about to go to the hospital wing,” Ludwig said.</p>
<p>“No, we’re not!” Gilbert said loudly. “I’m fine as hell! Couldn’t be finer!”</p>
<p>“Bruder, don’t be ridiculous.”</p>
<p>But Ludwig saw that they weren’t going to get Gilbert anywhere near the hospital wing without creating another scene. With a sigh, he hobbled his protesting brother over to the edge of a nearby courtyard and forcibly sat him down so that they could at least apply Feliciano’s medicine. “How does it work?” he asked, eyeing the bottle.</p>
<p>“She said to put it in a bowl and soak the cuts!” Feliciano said. “Ah, but that might be hard if it’s on your thigh...”</p>
<p>Boldly, he uncorked the bottle and dumped a splash straight into the wound. Gilbert let out an involuntary yowl.</p>
<p>Now that he had a better look at the damage, Feliciano felt tears threaten once more; it looked just like the raw, ragged marks that had been inflicted on the Italian himself, and he still remembered vividly how it felt, the searing pain as if a knife had gouged deep into his flesh and buried itself there. Feliciano wouldn’t wish that on anyone, much less one of his friends! “Gilbert,” he said in a trembling voice, “you didn’t need to do this for me!”</p>
<p>“You think the awesome me would get beaten by a kid? Ha!” Gilbert puffed out his chest. “It barely even tickled! Besides, Francis was there to back me up, the brat never had a chance!”</p>
<p>“Eh? Big brother France was there?”</p>
<p>It was only then that Gilbert noticed that his friend was conspicuously absent.</p>
<p>“Wait—where’d he go?” When did that guy even sneak away? He looked wildly around the empty courtyard as if Francis would pop out from behind one of the grey, vine-wrapped pillars, but the only movement around them was the skittering of leaves as they blew from one end to the other; no luscious blond hair or prancing Frenchman in sight.</p>
<p>“He is probably off to cause more trouble,” Ludwig grunted, criticism evident in every line of his brow.</p>
<p>“Speaking of,” Gilbert said, “where were you when all this went down, West? I can’t believe you missed me kicking ass!”</p>
<p>“Visiting Arthur.”</p>
<p>“What? <em>Why</em>?”</p>
<p>Ludwig saw no reason to hide anything. “I wanted to ask what he was doing about the atrocities happening here. He is planning to teach the students some ways to defend themselves, unbeknownst to the other teachers.” He paused. “He also showed me something we need to learn—all of us.”</p>
<p>“The hoity-toity professor’s giving us <em>homework</em> now?” Lovino said incredulously.</p>
<p>“No,” Ludwig said. “It is a defensive spell against those creatures from the lake. Dementors, he called them.”</p>
<p>A ripple of apprehension washed over the others, and in a moment of extraordinary rarity, all three fell silent. None of them could forget the disaster that had happened the night they arrived.</p>
<p>“We cannot allow that night to happen again,” Ludwig continued, his voice ringing louder now as he slipped into the familiar, dominating tone of a military commander. “Arthur says the spell is difficult, even for those experienced with magic, but we will all continue practicing until we achieve it. I will not allow anyone to rest until then!”</p>
<p>“Wah, Ludwig’s going into scary mode again!” Feliciano wailed.</p>
<p>“Don’t tell me what to do, you sausage-eating bastard!” Lovino snapped.</p>
<p>Ignoring Lovino’s hostility, which he was quite used to by now, Ludwig turned to Gilbert. “You will be part of this too,” he said.</p>
<p>“I don’t need defensive charms or any of that stuff!” Gilbert proclaimed. “I’m the unbeatable Prussia!” But Ludwig cast him a long, hard look, at first meeting him eye to eye, then shifting his gaze down to yellow-soaked skin around his wound. Gilbert frowned.</p>
<p>“What if those mean teachers catch us?” Feliciano tugged at Ludwig’s sleeve. “They’re everywhere in the halls! Even the janitor chased me the other day because I went to the kitchens to get a snack, and I managed to run away but he almost caught me!”</p>
<p>“It is true—the surveillance in the castle will be difficult to escape. However, I would like to try something.” Ludwig, always with a plan in mind, motioned for them to stand.</p>
<p>Thick blankets of clouds smothered the sunset, leaving nothing but dreary grey sky to welcome them as they left the courtyard and headed out into the grounds. Only a short distance away, the vast emerald expanse of the Quidditch pitch stretched out before them. It was already creeping over with overgrowth, tangled weeds, and a sweeping sea of untrimmed grass. Small twigs and dry, crumpled leaves littered the seats that encircled the stadium, woefully ignored after the reinstatement of Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four and the subsequent ban on Quidditch teams. It was the perfect place for an illicit walk... or for a group of nations to practice a difficult, complicated spell without the risk of teachers stumbling upon them.</p>
<p>As he’d hoped, it was deserted. Excellent.</p>
<p>Ludwig got as far as taking out his wand, and that was where he stopped, unsure how precisely to proceed. He was an accomplished <em>commander</em>, but teaching? He had never thought himself a teacher, really. It required patience, which admittedly Feliciano had taught him in spades, but also a deep familiarity with what was being taught. Arthur had already declined to get involved—he was not going to compromise his position as part of the teaching staff, and refused to be dragged along on any sneaky side missions—but Ludwig thought with slight disgruntlement that it would have been much easier to learn magic from the most magically inclined nation here.</p>
<p>“Arthur showed me the basics of the spell,” Ludwig began, and unexpectedly he felt as though he were fifty years in the past, teaching Feliciano the simple action of throwing a grenade. “Let’s see... there is a motion like this, and then you must say the incantation while focusing on a singular, happy memory.” He waved his own wand rather stiffly. “<em>Expecto Patronum</em>!”</p>
<p>Nothing happened.</p>
<p>“Performance anxiety, West?” Gilbert snickered from his comfortable spot at the edge of the field, where he had flopped down and was now relaxing. His legs sprawled out lazily, his injury now wrapped in a makeshift bandage, made from a white flag conjured by Feliciano.</p>
<p>Ludwig’s brow creased in greater concentration. “Arthur did say that it may not happen right away. For some, it may never happen at all.”</p>
<p>“Oh, thanks, that’s real encouraging,” Lovino said sarcastically.</p>
<p>“<em>Expecto Patronum</em>!” Feliciano echoed, but his wand, too, sat idle and unresponsive in his hand. “Ludwiiiig!”</p>
<p>“You are not allowed to surrender after one attempt,” Ludwig barked. “We are here to train, and we will not succeed unless we put in our greatest effort. The punishment for giving up will be twenty laps! Again!”</p>
<p>“This is a waste of time, damn it,” Lovino said, shoving his hands in his pockets and starting to turn back towards the castle. “What’s the point if it’s apparently so—EIAAAAH!”</p>
<p>Both Italian brothers screamed in unison as the sky suddenly came alive, huge, terrible creatures swooping overhead from seemingly nowhere, and Ludwig’s heart almost stopped when he recognised them. No, not now—</p>
<p>And then the clouds turned to a dark grey shroud that trapped them in, the horribly familiar chill that had suffocated them that first night on the lake began to settle into their bones once more, and the dementors that had come to investigate, curious and hungry, now converged on the victims that had wandered unknowingly into their midst.</p>
<p>“<em>Germany</em>—!”</p>
<p>“—<em>needs to see for himself—</em>”</p>
<p>Ludwig’s eyes snapped open. He hadn’t even realised they were shut, plunged into some nightmarish memory against his will, and with a tremendous effort he straightened up and forced himself to lift his head. Feliciano and Lovino had found each other, and they were both wracked with tremors, their knuckles white as they gripped one another and stared terror-stricken up at the sky; Gilbert looked like he was half a world away, unreachable, inconsolable as he, too, glanced around wildly for his brother, his scarlet eyes feral with pain—</p>
<p>
  <em>A man was swearing quietly in English beside him, and the thunderous rumble of tanks shook the ground beneath his feet, yet he couldn’t register any of it. The world was silent, the crumbled remains of buildings laying in grim, orderly rows, ashes and death choking the air—</em>
</p>
<p>No! He would not surrender to these demons—he hauled himself up again and aimed his wand—</p>
<p>“<em>Don’t pretend like you didn’t know!”</em></p>
<p><em>Despair and fury and grief all swallowed the words he wanted to say, even though he wanted to shout at them, slam a hand into the wall next to them and ask why he would do this to his own people; then there was guilt at the same time, screaming at him the terrible truth that made his blood run cold—</em>he was responsible for this—</p>
<p>
  <em>He couldn’t look at them now, couldn’t meet their eyes as they cast him looks of terror and hatred from their gaunt, skeletal faces, recognising, perhaps, the same uniform that their captors had worn. But America had never been one for subtlety; a hand grabbed him roughly by the face, forcing his chin up so that he saw the barren, smoldering wreckage of what used to be a living tomb, and in that second he felt a surge of hatred, for himself, for the man humiliating him, for what his leaders had become—</em>
</p>
<p>Light suddenly burst in front of his eyes and Ludwig roared something incomprehensible, adrenaline searing his blood as he lashed out blindly, prepared to fight off some new, unseen enemy. But there was nothing but smoke—smoke and silvery mist, as the majestic form of a horse soared overhead and landed with confident purpose among the dementors.</p>
<p>Ludwig could only watch, speechless, as the horse galloped through the swarm of cloaks, its bright mane flying, knocking them aside like they were nothing but paper dolls. A faint, eerie screeching noise echoed across the entire field which made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end; quickly, the dementors began to disperse, their clawed hands curled in what seemed remarkably like anger. Through the fading shroud of darkness, three figures sprinted towards them.</p>
<p>“Are you all right?” someone shouted.</p>
<p>Ludwig opened his mouth to respond, but his voice was lost, his body so sapped of strength that his legs trembled as he clambered to his feet. Despite how he willed himself not to topple over, he immediately started staggering until someone caught him by the shoulder to steady him.</p>
<p>“Oi! Come on, say something!”</p>
<p>Ludwig blinked, trying to collect the thoughts that swarmed his muddled mind. His vision focused to find a student he didn’t recognise standing at arm’s length in front of him: a young boy decked out in valiant red and gold, staring up at him warily as though he half expected him to collapse.</p>
<p>“Ginny, I think we should take them to Madam Pomfrey,” another voice said anxiously, sounding very far away.</p>
<p>“Yeah—Demelza, go check on that other bloke over there.” There was a shuffle of heavy boots on grass, and then Lovino yelped in surprise as though he had suddenly been pulled up from the ground. “Come on, we’re getting you to the hospital wing. Don’t know what the <em>hell</em> you were thinking...”</p>
<p>Ludwig vehemently shook himself out of his daze, and the hand on his shoulder released him. “I think he’ll be able to walk himself,” the boy called out.</p>
<p>“Great,” Ginny said. “Come help me with these two, Peakes—”</p>
<p>As the boy went over to where Feliciano and Lovino were huddled, refusing to let each other go, Ludwig finally managed to get a good look at his surroundings. It was as if the dementors were never there; the sky showed nothing but dull grey clouds, the horse Patronus had dissipated and the huge field around them was empty. Still, there was a chill lingering in the air that made his skin prickle more than any autumn wind he’d ever felt, and Ludwig shivered.</p>
<p>“What were you lot doing out here anyway?” Peakes was asking as he and Ginny struggled to get the Italian brothers to their feet.</p>
<p>“W-We just wanted to come practice Patronuses!” Feliciano cried. “We didn’t see anyone around, it was supposed to be safe...”</p>
<p>“I don’t think anywhere in Hogwarts is safe anymore,” Demelza said grimly as she and Gilbert joined them, Gilbert’s arm slung over her shoulder for support. “I don’t know what you knew about the old Hogwarts, but... it’s not the same as it used to be.” To the other two students, she added, “Ready?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Ginny said, but Ludwig caught a glimpse of the curiosity that flitted across her face before they set off.</p><hr/>
<p>“It hasn’t even been two hours!” Madam Pomfrey scolded. “Not even half the students are this bad!”</p>
<p>Even in his shaken state, Feliciano managed to muster a tiny, sheepish smile, but he didn’t have the energy to reply.</p>
<p>“As charming as you are, Mr Vargas, I hope visiting me won’t become a habit during your time here,” she continued, bustling around each nation’s hospital bed in turn with heapfuls of chocolate. “You’re lucky that Miss Weasley was able to cast a Patronus Charm—it’s a notoriously difficult spell, most students would be in just as much danger as you were. Of course, the fact that she, Robins, and Peakes were sneaking out to play Quidditch illicitly is another story... Professor McGonagall has already said her piece about that.”</p>
<p>Ludwig ate his chocolate bar in silence, fixing his eyes contritely on his bedsheets as he listened to Madam Pomfrey’s lecture. Even though he disapproved of the students’ rule-breaking, he did make a mental note to thank the three Gryffindors properly when he next saw them.</p>
<p>“I’m going to keep you here overnight,” Madam Pomfrey declared, “because quite frankly, after seeing you for dementor attacks twice already, I can’t say I’ve ever seen anybody so badly affected by them. I can't imagine what sorts of horrors you all must have seen to get that kind of reaction.” Straightening up with an authoritative air, she dusted off her white apron and gave the nations a stern look. “If any of you feel unwell, ring the bell at your bedside table and I’ll come out in a tick. Otherwise, I’ll be in my office over there, and I’ll check on you again tomorrow morning.”</p>
<p>When she was satisfied that all of them understood, she marched off towards the far end of the room, and a few seconds later they heard the resounding click of a door being shut.</p>
<p>The rest of the hospital wing was quiet. The four nations were secluded in a corner, hidden behind a privacy curtain that had been drawn between them and the other students. The sound of soft, steady snoring floated from a few beds over; it might have given Ludwig a lulling sense of peace had he not seen how many beds were already filled when they arrived, a dozen students injured when there should be none.</p>
<p>“West! Psst, West!”</p>
<p>Ludwig gave Gilbert a weary glance. “Bruder, <em>no</em>,” he said immediately when he saw the glint in Gilbert's eyes and the wand that was being held aloft, ready to cause trouble.</p>
<p>“Kesesese, no one’s going to see us!” Gilbert whispered, and he brandished his wand with immense confidence. “<em>Expecto Patronum!</em>”</p>
<p>Nothing happened.</p>
<p>“That was a fluke!” Gilbert said after an awkward beat.</p>
<p>Ludwig rested his head back on the pillow and lifted his own wand to stare at it. Arthur had warned him about the futility of this exercise...</p>
<p>No. Not futility. Madam Pomfrey’s words came back to him: “<em>Most students would be in just as much danger as you were.</em>”</p>
<p>This was how they could help. If they, immortals who had centuries’ worth of wisdom more than these children, could put all their effort into mastering these difficult spells, perhaps that was where they could make a difference, whenever the students could not. He would not give up—no matter how much blood, sweat, and tears it took, they would do their duty to protect the innocent lives here.</p>
<p>“<em>Expecto Patronum</em>!”</p>
<p>Feliciano and Lovino both gasped: a faint, silvery light suddenly burst from the tip of Ludwig’s wand like a wisp of smoke. It only hovered over them for a second, and then it was gone, and all four of them were left staring at the place where it vanished.</p>
<p>“Was that it?” Feliciano asked in a hushed tone, awe dawning on his face. “Was that the thing?”</p>
<p>In the dawning moonlight that spilled in from high, arched windows, they could see the beginnings of renewed confidence burning in Ludwig’s eyes. “Not yet. But it is a start.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Minerva McGonagall cares for all of her students' safety even the Slytherins and would not have shoved them in a dungeon during the Battle of Hogwarts, David Yates can fite me</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Point Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Whomp whomp, going back to school and work means rip to my fandom life lmao. I'm in the final year of my degree as well, so it's been a bit rough, please bear with me! Thank you to everyone who's left feedback, I hope y'all know that I appreciate every single one of you ;u; &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’ve got a message from Fred and George!”</p><p>As soon as the door to the Room of Requirement shut behind her, Ginny ran inside holding the little scrap of parchment in the air like it was a Snitch caught after a long, hard game. The small group of D.A. members that were in the room sat up straight.</p><p>“Are they all okay?” Neville asked, alarmed. They had to be; Ginny wouldn’t be this lively if she knew her brothers were in grave danger, surely.</p><p>Ginny flopped down on a cushion next to Luna, who was absentmindedly conjuring tiny, soot-black smokescreens in preparation for their lesson that evening. “Yeah, both of them and Lee are fine,” Ginny reassured everyone. “Said thank you for the warning, but it doesn’t seem like anybody’s pursuing them.” A frown crossed her face as she read over the relieving, yet baffling message. “Apparently it’s been pretty calm where they are, actually.”</p><p>“So does that mean... Kirkland didn’t rat them out after all?” The confusion in Padma’s voice was reflected in the faces of everyone else in the room.</p><p>“Maybe... we’ve got him wrong,” Susan suggested quietly. “Maybe Héderváry was right in telling us to trust him.”</p><p>“Professor Kirkland does seem quite agreeable,” Luna noted. “If he is a Death Eater, perhaps Professor Snape taught him how to be less obvious about it.”</p><p>“Did you hear what the fourth-years are saying though?” Parvati said. “They were doing amphipteres in class, and Kirkland was controlling them with Parseltongue! He never did it in front of them, they think he meant to hide it but they overheard...”</p><p>Lavender’s eyes widened. “What if he’s related to Slytherin? Or You-Know-Who himself? Ginny, you said that You-Know-Who used Parseltongue to open the Chamber of Secrets!” Ginny’s expression told them that the idea hadn’t escaped her either.</p><p>“Harry could speak Parseltongue too,” Ernie pointed out, frowning.</p><p>“Yeah, but he’s always the exception to the rule, isn’t he?” Terry said. “Fact is, almost all Parselmouths in history have been Dark wizards. I still don’t have a good feeling about Kirkland. He’s just...”</p><p>“Weird?” Michael supplied.</p><p>“That’s one word for it. I dunno, I just get a sense that there’s something off about him.”</p><p>“Hmm.” Ginny’s brow furrowed as if she didn’t know quite what to believe anymore. “Keep an eye on him if you can. And Honda too. There must be something we’re missing.”</p>
<hr/><p>“Me and Gilbert can get it most of the time now, and Ludwig gets it sometimes, but fratellone kind of sucks at it so far!” Feliciano babbled cheerfully to Elizabeta, Kiku, and Heracles, while picking a few more primrose flowers to add to his woven crown. The group of them were sitting in the shaded, secluded spot at the edge of the lake, a place Elizabeta had grown particularly fond of ever since Ginny, Neville, and Luna had shown it to her near the beginning of the year.</p><p>Beside him, Lovino glared at his brother. “It’s because you guys keep staring at me when I’m trying to do it, damn it!”</p><p>“I just don’t wanna miss it when it happens!” Feliciano said.</p><p>“Yeah, whatever!”</p><p>“That sounds amazing, Felike,” Elizabeta said with an encouraging smile. “Do you think you could show us here?”</p><p>Feliciano took out his wand and waved it with an excited flourish. “<em>Expecto Patronum</em>!” A cloud of faint, silvery mist emerged from the tip, and it swirled around the five of them like a comforting blanket before evaporating into the air. Elizabeta clapped her hands together in delight, and Feliciano beamed, rubbing the back of his head happily. “Ludwig says that’s not really it though—apparently it’s supposed to be the shape of an animal, but none of us managed to get that far yet.”</p><p>“It only takes practice, I am sure,” Kiku said soothingly.</p><p>“Hmph, easy for you to say,” Lovino said, crossing his arms. “It’s not like we have anywhere to practice anyway. We tried it in an empty classroom yesterday and got chased out with a whip! What the shit kind of school is this?!”</p><p>Kiku had no answer for this, but Heracles, who until this point had been listening contemplatively, was looking aside at Elizabeta.</p><p>“You seem like you want to say something,” he said to her. His tone was slow and mellow as usual, but his half-lidded eyes were unexpectedly astute as they watched for her reaction.</p><p>“Hm?” Elizabeta blinked. “Ah... no, it’s nothing. You two will figure something out, I’m sure of that, and you’ve got Ludika to help you.” She gave Feliciano and Lovino each an affectionate pat on the head. But as the conversation moved onto new ways to evade the grumpy old caretaker and whether the brothers should try sneaking into the kitchens again, Elizabeta’s hand slipped into her robe pocket and distractedly fingered the Galleon hidden there.</p><p>Heracles tilted his head at her, but said nothing.</p>
<hr/><p>“Al!”</p><p>Yong Soo burst through the door of the Gryffindor nations’ dormitory, but there was no sign of Alfred. Not that he had high hopes; he swore he’d covered all of Gryffindor Tower trying to find the guy, but if he hadn’t heard the American’s rowdy voice or boisterous laughter this whole time, then he definitely wasn’t here.</p><p>“He and Liz left a while ago,” Feliks said casually from his bed, where he was laying on his stomach with a magazine in one hand and a bright pink sucker in the other. “Said they were gonna go do some ‘stuff’. Dunno what that means.”</p><p>Yong Soo’s brow furrowed. “That sounds suspicious.”</p><p>“Totally, right?” Feliks popped the sucker back into his mouth, visibly dismayed that one of his close friends would keep a secret from him. “Anyway, what do you need him for?”</p><p>Yong Soo took a moment to glance around, checking to see that there were no pesky authority figures hovering around the hallway to get him in trouble.</p><p>“Okay, keep this on the down low,” he said excitedly, “but hyung and I found this super awesome secret passage that leads out of the school! I’m going back to explore and I was gonna ask Al if he wanted to come with.” He pouted at slightly at the thought of so much wasted potential. The beautiful high school student-slash-model-slash-mage and his comic relief sidekick... so much good drama material he could’ve gotten! Alfred would have made the best sidekick too.</p><p>Feliks’ eyes widened in childish delight at the mention of ‘secret passage’. “Hey, I wanna come! I’m, like, totally bored out of my mind, Liz isn’t here and I can’t find Parvati or Lav either,” he said. “And this magazine isn’t even good, it’s all about this dude named Dumbledore and his fashion sense is literally gonna make me die. All the kids are reading it so I thought it’d be cool, but I guess these people are just as cool as England is. Which is totally not.” He tossed the magazine flippantly to the carpet. “So, like, where is this thing?”</p><p>It didn’t take long for Yong Soo to retrace his steps back to the entrance of the passageway, thanks to the little parchment magpie who sadly couldn’t fly anymore, but could still sit in the palm of his creator’s hand and indicate directions with tiny, stilted hops. Yong Soo had grown fairly attached to his little companion; there was no way he was going to keep him stuffed away in Gryffindor Tower forever!</p><p>They soon reached the statue, now looking rather odd with a transfigured lump of rock that vaguely resembled the part that Yong Soo had blown up, and a massive, hastily glued crack along its hump. It certainly wasn’t the best repair job in the world, but at the time Yao was more concerned with dragging Amycus back up to his office before anyone noticed that he was missing.</p><p>Yong Soo placed his magpie on the ground next to the pedestal. “You’re on lookout duty, okay, little guy?” he said. “When we get back, chirp if the coast is clear.”</p><p>“Can that thing, like, understand stuff?” Feliks asked curiously.</p><p>“Probably!” Yong Soo said cheerfully. “I enchanted those guys, they’re made to do whatever I say!”</p><p>With that, he withdrew his wand and poked the crack on the statue, and slowly the top began to split off like the mouth of a clam yawning in slow motion, until the entire hump was open for them again. “Hyung thought he’d be able to keep me out,” he boasted, “but I learned magic from him years ago and there’s not much he can get past me! Ha!”</p><p>Feliks peered down the shaft in apprehension. “Um, no offence, but this looks, like, super sketch,” he said.</p><p>“It’s so cool, isn’t it?” Yong Soo beamed, and he clambered into the statue once more, oblivious to the slightly distressed look that Feliks shot him.</p><p>“Oh, my <em>god</em>,” Feliks repeated, but reluctantly he followed suit, and his words devolved into a scream on his way down the slide. Behind them, the hump of the witch fell back into place with a heavy snap, suddenly engulfing them in darkness. “<em>Ew!</em> What is this stuff, slime? Ugh, gross.”</p><p>Like last time, Yong Soo was already skipping ahead, brazenly passing the remains of the cursed barrier that Ivan had broken through in order to follow his fellow nations. The shattered edges of the barrier were visible now, clinging to the walls like shards of glass, glowing faintly with the same ominous purple aura that he saw enveloping Ivan’s water pipe. Was that what he did, charge that thing up like a Special B move and brute force his way through? Come to think of it, Yong Soo couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen Ivan use his actual wand before.</p><p>“I’m totally gonna need a bubble bath after this,” Feliks said as he caught up, still trying to pick bits of mould off his robes. “And a glass of sparkling juice and some strawberry kisiel.”</p><p>“Just wait, there’s this amazing-ass candy shop at the end!” Yong Soo said. “I didn’t get to bring anything back last time ‘cause... ah, we got kinda distracted. But I’m definitely gonna get some stuff this time!”</p><p>Sure enough, as soon as they emerged into the cellar of the sweet shop, Yong Soo bounded up the stairs to the main storefront, while Feliks followed close behind, more relieved than anything to be out of that dank, stuffy passage. Yong Soo did have enough sense not to fling open the door and attract attention to themselves; he made sure to check for witnesses so that they could slip into the main shop without notice. If only Yao could see him now, being all tactical and stuff! Then he would finally accept that Korea should be called the big brother of Asia!</p><p>Feliks, meanwhile, had quickly gotten over his mould-induced crisis when he saw all the colourful displays stacked around him.</p><p>“Was this place here the whole time?” he asked incredulously, his eyes shining as he bounced from table to table, poring over packets of shimmering squares (“<em>Coconut Ice: Now in Rainbowberry Flavour!</em>”), bowls of sparkling wrapped sweets (“<em>Frozen Gobstoppers, the Perfect Antidote for Dragon Chili</em>”), high spiralling stands of lollies and countless different kinds of chocolate bars. “Oh my god, this is, like, a lifesaver—I’m almost out of the stuff I got from the train.”</p><p>“Can I help you?” Both nations turned, Yong Soo somewhat guiltily, at the sound of a man’s voice, and they found the owner of the shop approaching them with a polite, but not exactly enthusiastic smile. His face was pale, with lines of stress creasing deeply across his forehead, and though his rather short, lanky form appeared unassuming enough, he kept one hand hidden in the pocket of his robe—probably on his wand, Yong Soo thought, ready to defend his shop at a moment’s notice. The Korean stared back at him, searching for any hint of recognition in the man’s eyes, and to his relief he found none.</p><p>“Yeah, so like, do you have free samples or something?” Feliks said. “I don’t have money but I’ve been looking for these jeweled breath mints for, like, forever.”</p><p>“I’ll cover you!” Yong Soo said. “Just don’t tell hyung, I kinda borrowed some gold from him. Without telling him...”</p><p>Twenty minutes later, Yong Soo and Feliks finally walked out of the shop into the bright afternoon daylight, both of their pockets stuffed to the hem thanks to Yao’s unknowing contribution. Now that the horrors of the underground passage were behind him, Feliks’ appetite for adventure had returned in full force; the rest of their Sunday stretched out endlessly before them as he and Yong Soo wandered out into the quaint village streets for a bit of exploring.</p><p>It was still quiet, which puzzled Yong Soo. Last time, he just figured there was no one outside because it was who-knows-when o’clock at night, but surely during the day on a weekend, when the air was crisp and refreshing and there was no sign of ominous rain clouds overhead, more people would be milling up and down the high street.</p><p>Nope. The most they saw was a small group of people hanging in an alleyway, all donning heavy black cloaks, tightly clustered together with their heads down as they discussed something in low, harsh voices. They reminded Yong Soo of the guys that had ambushed him and Yao in Honeydukes, but he wasn’t too keen on waltzing up to them and confirming that, if he was honest.</p><p>One particular building drew them in, the only one that seemed to invite travellers to come in and stay a while; golden light glowed from the windows and smoke puffed steadily from its dangerously high, crooked brick chimney, and the warm, tantalising smell of butterbeer wafted out, making their mouths water when the door opened with a cheery jangle. A trio of broomsticks were affixed in a triangle over the wooden arch entrance, and carved in neat, thin lettering along its length were the words “<em>Three Broomsticks Inn</em>”.</p><p>“All right?” The sprightly voice of the barmaid greeted them as soon as the two nations stepped foot inside. She bustled over from where she had been leaning on the counter, chatting idly to a young man seated with a drink, and a curious sort of smile crossed her face as she appraised her new customers. “Why, hello there. Don’t think I’ve seen the two of you around before.”</p><p>“We’re visitors!” Yong Soo proclaimed loudly, and he and Feliks wasted no time making themselves cozy in the bar stools. “I’m Yong Soo and he’s Feliks, and we’re here to see the magical world in Britain!”</p><p>“Is that right?” The woman raised one eyebrow in amusement. “Well, what do you say about that. Call me Rosmerta—can I get you loves something?”</p><p>“Ooh, yeah! I’m in the mood for something sweet, whatever you have!” Yong Soo said. Beside him, Feliks, who had flushed pink and was avoiding looking the woman in the eye, nodded silently in agreement.</p><p>Rosmerta casually waved her wand and two heavy glass tankers came floating over. With the practiced flourish of someone who had been doing this for years, she tapped her wand to both and filled them to the brim with a steaming, dark brown, velvety liquid.</p><p>“Nothing like a hot spiced cocoa on an autumn day. Put in a shot of Firewhiskey for each of you too—newcomer’s treat,” she added with a wink, and then she sidled up to them and propped her chin in her palm, eyeing both of them keenly over the countertop. “So, how long are you two here for?”</p><p>“A while! We’re staying at Hogwarts in the meantime!” Yong Soo took a huge, eager swig from his tanker and immediately felt a delightful buzz that seemed to warm him to the bone.</p><p>The mention of Hogwarts attracted the attention of the man whom Rosmerta had been talking with earlier: a few seats down the bar, he suddenly looked over, a slight frown crossing his face.</p><p>“Are you those international representatives I’ve heard about?” he said.</p><p>Both Yong Soo and Feliks looked back at him and gave a start. They hadn’t really paid the man much attention until now. Dressed in nondescript robes like all other wizards, he had been leaning on the counter in silence, his long ginger hair falling over his face and hiding the long, grisly scars that disfigured it. Now that he was directly facing them, the extent of his scars were thrown into sharp relief in the light that streamed through the windows; they tore across every bit of skin in such cruel lines that the expression underneath was difficult to read. It would have shocked many other people, no doubt, if they hadn’t already seen centuries of this sort of trauma and worse.</p><p>“You’ve heard about us?” Yong Soo asked.</p><p>“He’s Hogwarts alumni, he still keeps up with things,” Rosmerta said, throwing a fond glance over her shoulder at him. “Another one, Bill?”</p><p>The man nodded and raised his own glass, which Rosmerta refilled with another effortless wave.</p><p>“It’s a big occasion, hosting a group of international visitors in the school,” Bill said, scrutinising Yong Soo and Feliks with unhidden curiosity. “Word’s gone around quickly.”</p><p>“Not the best time for it though,” Rosmerta commented with a tut, “if the state of Hogwarts is anything like it is here.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Yong Soo asked. Feliks peeked over the brim of his tanker with raised eyebrows.</p><p>“Well, you must have seen all the Death Eaters lurking about outside. They bring all sorts of fights and shady dealings in here, parading around their stolen things and horrible cursed objects without an ounce of shame—absolutely hate it, it’s been awful for business.” Rosmerta threw a tea towel onto the counter in aggravation. “Only so much I can do though—even if I chase them out, I can’t block three curses at once if they decide to get the jump.”</p><p>“If any Death Eaters even try it with you, I’ll see to them myself,” Bill said firmly. “And I think most of Hogwarts would feel the same.”</p><p>“Always the chivalrous Gryffindor!” Rosmerta broke into a brief peal of laughter. “I don’t doubt it, love. But it isn’t safe for anyone, is it—I mean, you’ve heard what happened to poor Ambrosius and his wife. If ever a scuffle broke out, I’d have expected it to be at the Hog’s Head, somewhere that’s always been crawling with Dark wizards—not Honeydukes!”</p><p>She shook her head, falling into somberness again. Over the bar, Yong Soo suddenly took great interest in gulping down the rest of his drink.</p><p>“‘Hog’s Head’?” Feliks echoed, speaking up at last because it was such a gross name, he couldn’t stop himself from reacting. “What the heck is that? Sounds like the grodiest place ever.”</p><p>“I’d avoid it if I were you,” Bill said, frowning. “It didn’t have the best reputation even before You-Know-Who’s followers got here, but now it’s almost like their headquarters.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, we’ll steer clear of that place!” Yong Soo said, a little too innocently, and Bill cast him a slightly dubious look.</p><p>“So like, even outside the castle we can’t get rid of those stupid goons?” Feliks said. “Ugh, lame. Living with wizards sounded super cool in the beginning, but these Death Eater people are, like, totally ruining the vibe.”</p><p>“I know, right!” Yong Soo said. “We gotta do more of those pranks, it really pissed them off last time and it was the best thing ever! Hey, you want to come back to Hogwarts with us? You probably know the castle a lot better than we do!” he added to Bill, but the other man shook his head.</p><p>“I’m only here to run an errand,” he said. “Can’t stay for long, I’m afraid.”</p><p>“Aww...”</p><p>Bill soon finished his drink and rather abruptly excused himself. The two nations ended up losing track of how long they stayed behind, chatting with Rosmerta, until they too felt that they were ready to move on with their adventure. They left a generous tip on the counter, bid the vivacious barmaid goodbye, and, feeling rather sleepy and full, traipsed back into the street with a new sense of curiosity brimming at the forefront of their minds. Bill had explicitly warned them against it, but a peek wouldn’t hurt...</p><p>The exterior of the Hog’s Head Inn was just as they’d imagined, grubby and dark and very much the sort of place one would suspect unscrupulous goings-on to be happening. Feliks wrinkled his nose at the sight of the inn’s namesake—a hideously realistic painting of a boar’s head tacked onto a blood-soaked cloth, which hung over the entrance—and even Yong Soo’s excitement was dampened slightly by the gruesome welcome that seemed to ward visitors away rather than invite them in. Feliks pulled at Yong Soo’s arm, clearly averse to stepping foot inside the place.</p><p><em>Well... fine</em>, Yong Soo thought. It didn’t look as if anything interesting was happening, anyway; the inside of the pub, though difficult to see through the grime coating every inch of the windows, belied no sign of activity except for a tiny, bald creature with massive ears puttering around, diligently wiping away at tables.</p><p>And so they started in the opposite direction up the high street, leaving the Hog’s Head to be investigated another day—but not before Yong Soo caught a glimpse of someone staring at them through the window, watching them with strikingly brilliant blue eyes.</p>
<hr/><p>In the Ravenclaw common room, beneath a ceiling of stars, Heracles yawned. Once again, he was sitting alone. For some reason, though he hadn’t had the faintest idea why, many of the seventh-years in their House seemed to be avoiding him and Kiku as of late. Neither of them asked about this sudden change in attitude, nor reacted to it, really, despite how it perplexed them; it wasn’t in their nature to kick up a fuss. Perhaps this was just one of the many peculiarities of adolescence...</p><p>He leaned back against the wall and stretched out his arms, and the cat lying across his lap rumbled his displeasure at being shifted. A paw darted out in grumpy retaliation and swiped Heracles’ book to the floor.</p><p>“Ah, sorry...”</p><p>He picked up the book again, but rather than trying to relocate the page he’d drifted off at—”<em>Chapter Five: Patronuses of the Wizengamot</em>”—Heracles set it aside and let his gaze wander out the window next to him. The grounds seemed so very far away from his lonely outlook atop the tower, and in the distance he could see a faint stirring of cloaks against the glittering night sky: the only sign, even to the keenest eye, of the dementors that constantly haunted the vast, deserted Quidditch pitch.</p><p>“It would have been a nice place to practice,” he murmured with a whim of regret, petting his companion with slow, absentminded strokes. “Like an Olympic field... so much space and so far away from prying eyes... that’s all we need, a place where we can’t be found. I wonder if that’s what Hungary is hiding...”</p><p>To his surprise, the cat seemed to respond. Heracles had been musing out loud more than anything, letting his thoughts drift from his lips in a steady stream of consciousness, but when the cat suddenly leapt out of his lap and began circling around him, nipping at his robes, he found himself wondering just how much of his words the creature actually understood.</p><p>Intuition spurred him to his feet. Curiously, he followed as the cat slinked off, leading him out of the common room into the eerily quiet corridor, then far into the depths of the seventh floor of the castle.</p><p>There came a moment where Heracles wondered if he had just been seeing meaning in something meaningless, when he ended up at a dead end with no doors or further passages to speak of. He could not see how this could help, as his companion led him back and forth several times in a row, how this could get him what he needed...</p><p>“Oh...!”</p><p>Piercing yellow eyes regarded him smugly when a door suddenly materialised in front of them. Heracles pushed it open in wonder, and the cat sauntered past his feet with its massive bottlebrush tail held high in the air.</p><p>The room he found himself in was a small one, slightly dusty in the corners and furnished sparsely with six wooden chairs, and as soon as he glanced over his shoulder and saw the door swing shut behind him, he understood.</p><p>“Are you saying we can come here to practice...?”</p><p>The cat sat on its haunches and stared at him.</p><p>“Can you bring the others here?”</p><p>The tip of its tail twitched in what seemed like irritation. Heracles took that as a no. Perhaps this was a test for him, a task he needed to carry out himself, like one of his ancient heroes...</p><p>From morning until evening the next day, Heracles didn’t see a hide or hair of the cat again, and as he meandered his way back to the secret room with both Italian brothers in tow, he wondered if his companion would be angry with him.</p><p>“You need to remember how to get to this place, got it?” Lovino was telling his younger brother brusquely.</p><p>“Don’t worry, fratellone! When we show Ludwig, he’ll definitely remember and we can just follow him!”</p><p>“I’m not going to follow that sausage bastard, damn it! I don’t need his help!”</p><p>“Right here... I think you just need to pace in front of this spot,” Heracles was saying, completely oblivious to the argument going on right next to him. “How many times was it...? Three... or four? Can you give us that secret practice room, please...?”</p><p>Feliciano and Lovino immediately stopped talking and stared when, exactly on cue, the door appeared out of nowhere. Unflappable as always, Heracles stepped forward to open it.</p><p>“Ah—”</p><p>Inside the room, Kiku rose to his feet in surprise.</p><p>Feliciano let out a noise of delight and immediately bounded forward to hug his friend, but Heracles simply blinked, his expression shifting into one of vague confusion. “How did you find...?”</p><p>“Oof—hello, Feliciano-kun.” Kiku awkwardly patted the Italian on the back, and then, meeting Heracles’ eyes over Feliciano’s shoulder, he said simply: “I was trying to practice that charm that these two told us about, but a large orange cat interrupted me and brought me here.”</p><p>Heracles blinked again, and then after a moment, his face broke into a soft smile.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Grey and Gray</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You heard from them up at Hogwarts lately?”</p><p>“Yeah, Alecto came down the other day. The other teachers aren’t happy—coulda guessed that much, they were all up Dumbledore’s arse, each one of ‘em—but nothing they can do now with three Death Eaters in that place.”</p><p>“Four.”</p><p>“What—oh yeah, the Malfoy brat.”</p><p>The table shuddered as a large, heavy tanker was slammed down, spilling drops of scotch onto the wood.</p><p>“They’re not going to last long, the Malfoys, mark my words. Lucius is good as done for—got no wand, and he’s been hiding away in that manor of his for months. Pathetic.” The man banged a hand several times on the table and gave a sharp whistle. “Oi! Get another pitcher over here!”</p><p>“Don’t whistle at me, I’m not your damned dog!” the grizzled old bartender snapped back. He slammed an overfilled, slightly tarnished glass pitcher onto the countertop and shoved it over, the amber liquid inside nearly sloshing over the brim.</p><p>Hooded green eyes flickered furtively across the room, watching as the first man stood up and stomped over to the bar to retrieve it.</p><p>“Anyway,” he said when he sat back down, “got Dolohov’s Polyjuice here. Bloody better be enough, dunno how long he’s gonna be stationed at the old Black place—you’d think the Dark Lord wouldn’t trust ‘em after he and Rowle let Potter escape. Idiots.”</p><p>There was a heavy shuffling of robes as a large, gleaming copper flask exchanged hands, then both Death Eaters settled back into their chairs and refilled their glasses.</p><p>“Still no sign of him?”</p><p>“Doesn’t look like it. Even Potter’s not thick enough to come back here, seems like.”</p><p>“I still say you should’ve Cruciated those blood traitors longer. Reckon that Delacour woman was close to cracking.”</p><p>“We were at it for hours! We weren’t gonna get Potter’s whereabouts from them, I’m telling you. Besides, it doesn’t matter—he can’t stay in hiding forever. He’ll turn up.”</p><p>They sat for a long time, drinking down the rest of their pitcher with careless slurps and progressively more slurred conversation about where Harry Potter could be. Hiding with the Order? Or among Muggles? Surely he couldn’t have left the country, with dementors prowling all around the borders...</p><p>The only other occupants in the pub hardly reacted when the two Death Eaters finally got up to leave, and none of them said a word until the Death Eaters had stepped foot outside, slammed the rickety door behind them, and stalked off down the high street out of sight. That was when one of the remaining patrons in the pub whipped off his hood and turned to speak to his companions in the otherwise empty room.</p><p>“So, like, what I really want to know is... why is <em>he</em> still here?”</p><p>Feliks’ voice rang loudly with contempt as he glared at Ivan, who simply gave him a placid smile in return.</p><p>“The friend of my friend, I guess I can play nice with,” he said cheerfully. “It has been so long since we’ve spent time together—right, Toris?” he added, turning to Toris, who averted his gaze.</p><p>“I invited Liet, not you!” Feliks said heatedly.</p><p>“Toris is happy to have me here though,” Ivan said.</p><p>Sandwiched between them, with Ivan looming over him on one side and Feliks grabbing his sleeve on the other, Toris twisted his fingers together in a familiar nervous gesture. “Feliks, it’s fine—”</p><p>“I’ll totally wreck you again, dumb Russian! See if I don’t!”</p><p>“No murder in the pub,” the bartender barked. “Take it outside!”</p><p>“No murder anywhere, please,” Toris said emphatically.</p><p>Feliks narrowed his eyes at Ivan, then he stood and flounced towards the bar, pulling Toris forcefully by the arm behind him. Toris shot the bartender a beseeching look.</p><p>“Not my business, what goes on between you lot. Sort it out yourselves,” the elderly man growled in response, sparing him only a second’s glance from behind his spectacles, not budging from behind the counter where he was polishing a glass with a dirty, frayed rag.</p><p>Meanwhile, Feliks puffed up like an angry cat. This was supposed to be a fun trip, and everything was being <em>ruined</em>. Ever since Yong Soo introduced him to the passage to Hogsmeade, Feliks had been looking forward to going back—even if it was without his fellow Gryffindor this time, as Yong Soo was currently stuck in one of Yao’s never-ending lectures following the discovery of his stolen money. Apparently it was the extended edition of said lecture, complete with generous amounts of guilt-tripping and poignant lamenting about where China had gone wrong as a parent.</p><p>When Feliks found out about Yong Soo’s fate, he’d simply shrugged and left for Hogsmeade anyway, knowing that the other nation probably wouldn’t be released for about a hundred years.</p><p>Of course he had to bring Toris though. Like, who even decided to spend their weekend in a stuffy library looking up wizarding history books? <em>Lame people</em>, that was who. Feliks was totally doing Toris a favour here, because he needed to get a life. So he’d had planned out this whole trip, and they were supposed to have a blast hanging out, just the two of them, and then all of a sudden Ivan decided to tag along on his own accord? Um, excuse him. Bitch.</p><p>“This was fun!” Ivan said to Toris, his eyes shining brightly. “It is sad they weren’t the people from last time. I was looking forward to having a talk with them about what they did to Yao.” Ivan was not happy with their attackers after what happened at Honeydukes, so when he spotted a couple of Death Eaters heading into the grubby Hog’s Head Inn, he was determined to follow them to see if they were the same ones. Toris couldn’t escape from being dragged along, and of course Feliks refused to leave him alone, so here they were, unwillingly accompanying the Russian on his revenge mission.</p><p>It was Toris’ idea to hide their faces underneath their hoods while they eavesdropped; he just wanted to draw as little attention to themselves as possible. Ivan was happy with the idea because “you can hurt people so much more if they don’t see it coming”.</p><p>Restlessly, Toris rubbed his wrist where Ivan’s steel grip had bruised him. Those men truly didn’t realise how lucky they were.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said to the bartender, who, behind the face full of stringy grey hair and the enormous beard, was looking less impressed with them by the minute.</p><p>“I’m telling you again, if you’re going to be dragging your fights into this place, I’m not having it,” the bartender said irritably.</p><p>“Why do you think we are the ones starting fights?” Ivan pointed out with a slightly hurt frown. “What about the people you allow in here? They are not very nice.”</p><p>“Do they stir up a commotion though? No, so I turn my back, don’t I,” the bartender snapped.</p><p>“Aren’t they You-Know-Who’s supporters?” Toris said quietly. “Are you really okay with letting them in...?”</p><p>The bartender snorted. “Not worth the trouble. It’s no use trying to go against that lot anymore, they’ve already won—might as well make my own life easier.”</p><p>“That’s a horrible attitude to take,” Toris murmured. Beside him, Feliks nodded furiously. If he thought that way every time it looked like he was going to lose throughout history, there would be no Poland at all!</p><p>They were met with a disparaging scoff. “So you’re one of those. Probably think the Boy Who Lived is going to come save us all, is that right?”</p><p>“I—I don’t know what to think.” Toris avoided meeting the man’s brilliant, piercing blue eyes, which seemed to cut straight through him from behind the dirty spectacles. “But... lying down and giving in isn’t the right answer. All three of us know that well.”</p><p>“You’re all fools then,” the bartender said, turning away.</p><p>“What a stubborn child,” Ivan said, amused, and that earned him an offended scowl from the grizzled, grey-haired man, who had probably not been called a child for at least a century.</p><p>“I didn’t wake up today to be talked down in my own damn house!” Anger flashed across the bartender’s eyes now, and he slammed down the tanker he’d been polishing, making the rest of the glasses on the countertop rattle. “If all you’re wanting is to give me a holier-than-thou lecture, I suggest you turn your tails out that door and quit wasting my time.”</p><p>“Let’s get outta here, Liet,” Feliks said, rolling his eyes. Obviously this guy was a loser, and now that the most interesting part of this trip had left the pub and disappeared up the high street, Feliks was bored of this place. Without bothering to wait for Toris’ response, he was already dragging him towards the door, oblivious to the apology that Toris threw hastily over his shoulder. The bartender muttered something that sounded distinctly like “<em>good riddance</em>”, but Feliks had already forgotten about him. This little side trip was fun, but it was about time they got to the <em>real</em> important stuff: another candy shopping spree and more spiced cocoa!</p>
<hr/><p>“I do worry about him,” Francis said, furrowing his brow. His long limbs were sprawled lazily across a plush leather armchair in the corner of the Slytherin common room, and he stared up at the ceiling in deep thought, one hand twirling his wand in slow, graceful circles. “He seemed disturbed by what his friend was doing, so I went with him to make sure he was all right, and yet...”</p><p>He still remembered how Malfoy had brushed him off after the incident with Gilbert and Crabbe, how he’d refused to meet Francis’ eyes when he snapped that he was <em>fine</em>, that Feliciano didn’t seem like much anyway, and “<em>our</em> Ministry never would’ve taken someone so weak”. Draco Malfoy certainly was a difficult one to crack. Francis had always carried a streak of pride about his skill in Legilimency, but from this boy, he got... nothing. Nothing at all.</p><p>Curious.</p><p>“His father’s a Death Eater, Mr Bonnefoy, everybody knows that. He doesn’t really have a problem with Dark magic.” Astoria Greengrass, perched on a cushion beside him with her legs folded up demurely and a Transfiguration textbook nestled in her lap, frowned up at Francis’ ruminating expression. “I don’t know if you should feel so sorry for him.”</p><p>Francis hummed. Perhaps the young lady had a point... but still, the boy was just so <em>young</em>, and he sensed a deep unhappiness from him, so much that he simply could not bear to leave him alone. If these children had wandered down a path they regretted, it was big brother France’s duty to guide them into the light! Alas, he had been called nosy and meddlesome by his fellow nations many times before, but it was all out of love!</p><p>“You look like you want to argue,” Astoria said cautiously.</p><p>“Not argue, chérie, oh, no,” Francis tutted. “But forgive me if I’d like to continue what I’m doing. It is, ah, how do you say... an instinct.”</p><p>“I see.” Astoria fiddled with the corner of the page, which she hadn’t turned for the past twenty minutes. Then she asked, in a quiet murmur that blended with the crackling fire: “Do you agree with them?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“Draco and the rest of the Dark Lord’s followers. Do you agree with them?”</p><p>His mind flashed with the memory of sharp, glinting steel and the whistle of a blade piercing the air, blood spattering across wood and jeering crowds crammed in a huge, sunlit square. If she was asking whether he agreed with their ideals, then the answer was most certainly, vehemently not; a tyrant using violence to exert power and oppress their citizens was not exactly something the French Republic looked fondly upon.</p><p>But that didn’t quite work with the nations’ little cover story, did it?</p><p>“I tend not to condone violence nowadays,” Francis said evasively, now staring with idle interest at his wand as he ran the tip of his finger over its length.</p><p>Astoria turned this answer over in her head in silence.</p><p>Then Francis felt, not for the first time that evening, a very familiar chill run down his spine, and he tilted his head back, his smile hovering somewhere between endeared and terrified. “There is no need to hide from us, mon ami.”</p><p>There was a clumsy rustle, and Ivan’s bashfully innocent face popped into view overhead. “Hello, comrade,” he said shyly. “I am surprised you noticed me. I thought I was hiding well.”</p><p>“How precious,” Francis cooed. “Would you like to join our little chat?”</p><p>“Ah, yes. In fact, I have a question for you.”</p><p>“Oh, of course! Big brother is always here to help,” Francis said, flourishing with a theatrical sweep of his arm. Astoria’s gaze flickered between the two nations with interest.</p><p>Ivan strolled with short, buoyant steps around the armchair so that he ended up standing in front of the Frenchman and his companion. “I am wondering,” he said curiously, his hands folded behind his back, his face half-cast in shadow as he towered over them, “why do you have so much interest in that little blonde boy?”</p><p>“Policing the world now, c’est ça?” Francis replied, raising an eyebrow. “You and Alfred are more alike than you care to admit.”</p><p>Ivan’s smile grew colder, and Francis blanched.</p><p>“I’m simply keeping an eye on him,” he continued hastily. “He seems like an intriguing boy.”</p><p>“People say he and his friends do awful things. Just like they say about me.” Ivan tilted his head, and though his tone of voice didn’t change, the way his smile disappeared made Astoria sink a little further into her cushion and hide her face behind her textbook.</p><p>“Ah, well,” Francis said brightly, “you are a bit... you know...”</p><p>“But I think he’s cute,” Ivan continued. “The fragile ones usually are, da? So if you want to make friends with him, I...” He took a big, trembling breath. “I want to come along with you!”</p><p>Francis stared at him, momentarily dumbfounded by the request. Then his face split into a grin—how adorable! It was not the first time Ivan had asked him for help on matters of the heart, and Francis was flattered that he was the one he turned to. Of course he would not let him down!</p><p>Before he could respond, however, Astoria cut in, her voice quiet but clear: “I... don’t think you should.”</p><p>“Oh?” Ivan blinked down at her as if noticing her for the first time.</p><p>“You don’t have much sympathy for Monsieur Malfoy, do you, chérie?” Francis commented.</p><p>“You aren’t from around here,” Astoria said, her gaze fixed down at her textbook. “You don’t understand what people like him are really like.”</p><p>“What do you mean by that?” Francis asked, regarding her now with concern, but she shook her head, either unable or unwilling to say any more.</p><p>Meanwhile, the disappointment was obvious on Ivan’s face. Another chance at a friend lost. It always seemed to end up this way...</p>
<hr/><p>Neville flopped to the floor to catch his breath, and he took a moment to survey the room, his face flushed and slightly damp from effort, but beaming with pride. All around him, members of the D.A. were engrossed in mock battles; some ran around, fighting properly, while others simply stood in front of one another and experimented with curses and counter-curses. They were practising duelling today, so it seemed like a good time to try putting what they already knew into practice.</p><p>Gradually, the duels began to die out little by little as students retired, too drained or sore or wounded, to rest on the cushions and watch the others. But there was one duel that continued even long after the last student pair had finished.</p><p>“Keep up, lady!” Alfred shouted cheerfully as he ducked under desks and behind cabinets, intermittently throwing red jets of light in Elizabeta’s direction.</p><p>“Oh, don’t get cocky, you little shit!” she retorted. “<em>Invito könyv</em>!”</p><p>A huge leather-bound book suddenly flew into her hands, blocking Alfred’s Stunner, which ricocheted off a nearby shelf and sent Parvati and Lavender scurrying for cover. Elizabeta hurled the book towards her opponent, who dove out of the way, narrowly avoiding a dented skull.</p><p>“Hermione would kill her for that,” Ginny commented to Luna.</p><p>Alfred sprinted across the room with more books crashing one after another in his wake, until one caught his heel and he tumbled into the wall in a mess of flailing limbs. Elizabeta raised her wand for the finishing blow, only to catch sight of Alfred grappling for a nearby desk; with frighteningly superhuman strength he shoved the mass of wood towards her, sending it skidding across the floor with an ear-splitting screech. Forced to abandon her attack, Elizabeta braced herself to stop it with her hands, and Alfred seized his chance.</p><p>“<em>Confringo</em>!”</p><p>Instinctively, Elizabeta dropped to the ground, rolling out of the way as the desk exploded in a fiery blast. Shrouded in the thick, black smoke that billowed up in the aftermath, she darted nimbly along the wall, and when her sharp eyes discerned a shift of movement exactly where Alfred had fallen, she ran up to him and socked him square in the jaw.</p><p>“<em>Ow</em>! Geez, you don’t have to hit me that hard!”</p><p>As he spoke, Alfred managed to throw her to the ground, knocking her wand out of her hand. She didn’t even try to grapple for it; instead she opted to throw another punch, and soon enough Alfred had discarded his wand as well, and the duel was no longer a magic fight but had turned into an all-out fistfight.</p><p>“All right, that’s enough—” Neville started forward, signalling for them to stop, but when both nations continued to brawl as though they hadn’t heard him, he raised his wand and shouted, “<em>Protego</em>!”</p><p>The Shield Charm ballooned between the two and wrenched them apart, pushing them to opposite ends of the room. For a few seconds, they simply stared at one another through the barrier, unmoving, still poised and panting.</p><p>Then, to everyone’s surprise, Alfred’s face split into a grin and he started laughing. Elizabeta promptly followed suit, her tense posture melting away.</p><p>“Aw man, that was good! Shame you had to cut it short,” Alfred said to Neville, waving a hand to indicate that everything was fine. When Neville cautiously removed his Shield Charm, the American wasted no time in sauntering over and clapping his fellow nation on the back. “Been a while since I had a scrap like that!”</p><p>Elizabeta gave a playful little curtsy.</p><p>“You guys really don’t hold anything back, do you?” Neville said, his expression awed and slightly intimidated.</p><p>“‘Course not, this is what we’re trained to do!” Alfred boasted. “Our job isn’t just sitting at a desk all day, y’know! We get sent into the fray all the time!”</p><p>“Oh... I guess that makes sense. I mean, I just didn’t expect...” Neville trailed off, glancing at Elizabeta.</p><p>“Her?” Alfred laughed. “Man, you have <em>no </em>idea how vicious she can get. Just ask Gilbert.”</p><p>“Let’s<em> not</em>,” Elizabeta said rather tersely.</p><p>The two nations each pulled up a cushion and joined the rest of the students on the floor, where many were still trying to shake off the remnants of their classmates’ curses.</p><p>“Where did you learn how to fight?” Padma asked, gently fingering the burn that Parvati’s Stinging Hex had left on her face.</p><p>“Oh, y’know, the military mostly!” Alfred said with a carefree shrug.</p><p>“Muggle military?” Anthony said, surprised.</p><p>“That makes sense,” Luna said, nodding as though that explained everything. At the perplexed looks she got, she continued with an air of interest: “Both of you seem to like fighting without magic. Is that how you plan on defeating Death Eaters, by wrestling them? Most of them are quite skinny, so you may be onto something there.”</p><p>They hadn’t really paid attention to it before, but now that Luna pointed it out, Alfred and Elizabeta realised with surprise that she was right. They were both too used to operating in a non-magical world, it seemed.</p><p>“Perhaps we could try brewing an extra strength Growth Enhancement Potion for the rest of us! I have one of Mum’s modified recipes—”</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Ernie said, cutting Luna off. “No offence to you lot,” he added to the nations, “but I reckon a good Stunner would put you out as soon as they see you coming.”</p><p>“Well, that’s easy! Just make sure they don’t see you coming!” Alfred said cheerfully. “Gotta grab the bull by the horns, man!”</p><p>“Don’t encourage them to be reckless, Alfred,” Elizabeta scolded.</p><p>“Okay, Miss I-Punched-A-Death-Eater-In-The-Face—”</p><p>“<em>I told you not to mention that</em>!”</p><p>“You did what?” several of the students chorused loudly. Elizabeta looked duly ashamed of herself.</p><p>“Alecto Carrow summoned me to ask about the—sword of Gryffindor, I think it was? I told her I didn’t know what she was talking about, and she called me some rather unsavoury things, and... well.” Everyone gaped at her, and she smoothed her robes in deep embarrassment. “It’s all right, a simple <em>Exmemoriam</em>—ah, I believe that’s <em>Obliviate</em> to you—should be sufficient to cover it up. She’s going to wake up with quite a headache though.”</p><p>Terry whistled. “And you’re always warning <em>us</em> to be careful...”</p><p>“Well, you’re children!” Elizabeta said indignantly. “It’s different, Alfred and I have faced far worse before, we actually know what we’re doing—”</p><p>“And we don’t?” Seamus cut in.</p><p>“Well, we sort of don’t,” Hannah said nervously.</p><p>“You all did well today though,” Neville said, glancing over at Hannah with a shy, encouraging sort of smile.</p><p>“Yes, I think Harry would be proud of all of us,” Luna added happily.</p><p>Beside her, Ginny nodded; she, too, was looking around the room at the tired but pleased faces of her peers. “Well done, everyone. I think that’s enough for today, we’ve got to get back before it gets too late. Right, three at a time, you all know the drill...”</p>
<hr/><p>“Ve, why isn’t it working?!”</p><p>Feliciano flopped dramatically on top of Kiku, oblivious to how the smaller man buckled under his weight. Standing a little ways behind them, Heracles pondered their dilemma with a vague air of confusion, while the ginger cat sat expectantly at his feet, tail flicking as its bright yellow eyes darted from one nation to another.</p><p>It seemed that their mysterious practice room was refusing to open. Strange... he didn’t think there was anything particularly different from last time. They were even the same group of four. Of course Feliciano and Kiku had invited the German brothers along, but Gilbert was stuck in detention with Professor Slughorn after picking a fight with yet another Slytherin student, and Ludwig had insisted on accompanying him in order to keep him out of trouble.</p><p>So that left Heracles, Kiku, Feliciano, and Lovino, who had all spent hours in the room the last time they found it... but perhaps they had taken its existence for granted. Perhaps it needed to be a certain time of day, or a certain phase of the moon... or they could take Feliciano’s earlier suggestion, which was to bring an offering from the kitchens—</p><p>The door suddenly flew open, nearly knocking Feliciano and Kiku to the ground. Alfred stood at the front of a crowd, one of many faces staring in confusion. The four nations out in the corridor stared back.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” Lovino demanded.</p><p>“What are <em>you</em> doing here?” Alfred retorted.</p><p>“I asked you first!”</p><p>“I asked you second.”</p><p>An awkward stalemate fell over them, each side unsure of how much information to reveal to the other. It was Feliciano who finally spoke up, deciding it was best to be truthful: “We came here to practise Patronus Charms! We didn’t have anywhere to go, but the kitty showed us how to get to this place!”</p><p>This elicited surprised looks from Alfred and the students hovering behind him. Elizabeta’s face, on the other hand, lit up in realisation. “You needed a place to practice—of course! Oh, come in, all of you, we were about to leave but it wouldn’t be wise to linger outside...”</p><p>While some of the students cast mistrustful looks at the two Ravenclaw nations, Elizabeta was already ushering all of them into the room. Heracles paused mid-step when he spotted a familiar face sporting a very red, painful-looking scorch mark on her cheek.</p><p>“Did you injure yourself...?” he asked, approaching Padma with a vague air of concern, but Parvati immediately darted in front of her twin and threw an arm out in a protective gesture.</p><p>“Heracles-san is quite familiar with healing magic,” Kiku murmured. “Please let him help.”</p><p>Parvati glanced over at Elizabeta, who nodded, and then Alfred, who shot her a thumbs-up, and reluctantly she moved out of the way. Padma herself kept a wary eye on Heracles as he blinked placidly at her, lifted his wand to her cheek, and then drew it slowly across her burn. A few seconds later, surprise dawned on her expression as her skin healed over where the wand touched, no doubt taking the pain away with it.</p><p>While Padma gingerly touched her mended wound, Heracles looked around and saw many more to be attended to, from cuts and bruises to twisted ankles and shrivelled ears. What on earth were these students doing in here...?</p><p>“Hey, Heracles, wouldja mind fixing a couple of these kids before we head off?” Alfred asked, lighting up all of a sudden as if he’d come up with a brilliant idea. “Save us the trip to the hospital wing, y’know? I don’t think some of them would be able to sneak down there anyway.” He pointed to Susan, who was presently holding her leg at an odd angle after a richocheting Expulso Curse had smashed into her knee.</p><p>Heracles nodded lazily and traipsed over to Susan, who, after a couple of mumbled Greek spells, was standing perfectly well on both legs again. The huge ginger cat wove its way through the crowd to join its friend, and suddenly a shout rang out: “Crookshanks!”</p><p>Ginny broke forward and ran towards the cat with open arms, which he didn’t hesitate to leap into. “So this is who you’ve been hanging round all this time? Traitor.”</p><p>“He belongs to you?” Heracles said in mild surprise. “I’d thought the owner would be in Ravenclaw... since he is in the tower so often.”</p><p>“Well, yes, I’m the one taking care of him right now, but he does like roaming,” Ginny said, stroking the cat fondly. “I’ve been getting worried lately though, he’s been missing so often, sometimes for days on end...”</p><p>“I think he has gotten quite attached to you, Heracles-san,” Kiku said as Crookshanks wriggled free from Ginny’s arms and sauntered straight back to the Grecian. Surprise flitted across Ginny’s face, but she gave a reluctant smile when she saw Heracles stooping down to pet the cat.</p><p>“Well, at least he’s been getting love from somebody,” she said. “I’m just glad to know where he’s been. His owner would be really upset if he got lost. So would I, come to that.”</p><p>“Oh, you don’t own this cat?” Elizabeta said. “Where’s the original owner gone?”</p><p>An uncomfortable pause followed what otherwise might have been an innocent question. “She’s... not at Hogwarts right now,” Neville said finally, breaking the tension. “She’s Muggle-born, so she wasn’t allowed back in school this year.”</p><p>The nations lapsed into troubled silence. They were all aware, of course, of the state of Arthur’s country, and the students had told them several times before about the iron-fisted control that the new regime had on the Ministry of Magic.</p><p>“You’d best not be agreeing with all that shite,” Seamus said suddenly, his voice loud and aggressive as he glared at Kiku and Heracles.</p><p>“‘Course they don’t, dude!” Alfred said, leaping to his friend’s defence.</p><p>“Alfred-san is right,” Kiku said, though true to their natures, the expressions of both Ravenclaw nations remained quite impassive. He gave a small, apologetic bow. “Please forgive us. I am not sure if we said something to offend you...”</p><p>Their housemates all glanced at one another. Eventually, it was Terry who decided to bite the bullet and lay everything out in the open. “Did you or did you not overhear us in the common room that night?” he demanded.</p><p>Kiku paused, scrutinising the boy’s determined face carefully. “Yes,” he said at last.</p><p>“And you told Kirkland about it, didn’t you?”</p><p>“... Yes.”</p><p>They waited for some kind of elaboration or explanation, but none came.</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Lovino demanded. He had been following the conversation with increasing annoyance, glancing back and forth between each person that spoke, but it felt to him like they were purposefully trying to leave him out. And he <em>hated</em> that feeling. “Are you trying to hide something from the British bastard?”</p><p>“Are you going to go telling him everything you know?” Michael retorted.</p><p>Lovino snorted. “What the hell would we know that he doesn’t? He was the one who invited us here in the first place!”</p><p>“Bro, y’all decided to come on your own,” Alfred said, but he smirked at the memory of Arthur’s face when he saw all the nations climbing off the Hogwarts Express back at the beginning of September.</p><p>“But he let us stay!” Feliciano said with a cheerful smile.</p><p>“Kirkland... invited you to Hogwarts?” Ginny echoed, glancing over at Elizabeta.</p><p>“I’ve been trying to tell you all this time,” Elizabeta said gently. “We are all working for the same goal—Arthur included. While we’re in this castle, suspicion is only going to divide us.”</p><p>While the students tried to digest this information, Feliciano threw out his arms in his usual bright, enthusiastic manner. “Yeah, we want to help! Although I don’t know how much help I can be,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his head blithely, “but once Ludwig and Gilbert and big brother Francis get here, everything’s going to be okay!”</p><p>“No Slytherins!” Immediate calls of protest came from several students around the room, and the smile slipped from all of the nations’ faces.</p><p>“They’re the exact people we’re fighting <em>against</em>,” Ernie said sternly. “Every one of You-Know-Who’s supporters that’s been through Hogwarts had been a Slytherin, did you know that? I don’t necessarily expect you to know, being from foreign countries, but it does say something about the people in that House—”</p><p>“They’re not like that!” Feliciano insisted, and even Lovino nodded once as if he begrudgingly had to agree. “You’ve met Ludwig and Gilbert!” he added to Ginny, who had also tensed up, suspicion plain on her face. “Ludwig was the one who wanted to teach us Patronuses! He’s really a nice person, and he can protect us, and—”</p><p>“I say they’re too much of a liability,” Ernie cut in, folding his arms in a rather pompous manner.</p><p>“Yeah, plus, what if they slip something to a Death Eater’s kid?” Parvati said, frowning. “They’re going to be surrounded in their common room—we all know someone like Malfoy or Parkinson would be happy to turn us in to Snape.”</p><p>“No Slytherins,” Neville agreed. Feliciano let out a loud, disappointed whine, but the students were all nodding in agreement around them, and some of the bolder ones even glared at Alfred and Elizabeta as they made motions to argue. Neville, too, cast them a firm look as they rose to their feet. “You don’t understand. These people’s parents are marching with You-Know-Who right this second, and even the ones who aren’t still think he’s got the right idea—we’re not going risk anything by letting them into the D.A., and that’s final.”</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Hogsmeade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first Hogsmeade trip fell on a blustery weekend at the end of October, and scores of students streamed into the little village with hats jammed on their heads and hands crammed in toasty coat pockets. Loping among them, his own hands snug in a pair of chic black gloves, Francis strolled at an easy pace next to a rather troubled-looking Draco Malfoy.</p>
<p>"You did not invite those two friends of yours to join us?" Francis asked lightly.</p>
<p>"Who, Crabbe and Goyle? I don't know where they've gone," Draco said, trying and failing to sound disinterested.</p>
<p>Francis tilted his head up to the drab, cloudy sky. "Monsieur Crabbe is not very happy with you."</p>
<p>"He thinks I should have helped him, does he?" Draco snapped. "Well, he needs to learn to do something useful for once, I'm not always going to be there to wipe his arse."</p>
<p>Francis raised his eyebrows in mild annoyance, but he charitably decided not to retort. Unlike a certain Arthur Kirkland, he could certainly take a single snippety remark with grace.</p>
<p>Besides, Draco's pale face was tight and drawn as they entered the heart of the village, and his eyes kept darting around restlessly as though afraid they were going to be ambushed at any moment. Francis guessed that this was a bad time to rile him. Though he didn't know exactly what Draco was looking for, Francis, too, cast a brief, watchful glance around them as they nudged their way through the crowd towards the very end of the high street. As they passed a small knot of Slytherins, who were gathered around a display at the window of Spintwitches Sporting Needs, someone shouted: "Mr Bonnefoy!"</p>
<p>Francis turned; Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis had broken off from their circle of friends and hurried to catch up with them.</p>
<p>"Hello, Draco," Daphne greeted her classmate a bit more coolly. She turned to Francis and gave him a prim smile. "Mr Bonnefoy, would you like us to show you around Hogsmeade? I expect you've never been here before."</p>
<p>"We've been trying to find Mr Beilschmidt too," Tracey said. "Haven't seen him anywhere though, we thought he'd be with you."</p>
<p>"Gilbert, I assume?" Francis said with a knowing smirk. "Alas, as lovingly as we share our lives, I am not in the habit of keeping him on a lead. Not unless, of course, he begs me to," he added, eliciting a look of scandalised delight from the girls.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Draco had already stalked off, not the least bit interested in sticking around for this conversation. Francis gave the girls an apologetic little curtsy.</p>
<p>"Excuse-moi, mes filles, but I have already promised somebody my company today. Do come for a visit in the common room later tonight though, I fully intend to bring back some of the fantastic whiskeys your wizarding world has to offer." If there was one thing that Arthur could actually do right, it was his hard liquors. And the Brit claimed he didn't have a drinking problem...</p>
<p>By the time Francis had rejoined Draco, they were crossing by Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, where a small flock of students were milling about outside, many with hot drinks in hand. He briefly caught the sight of two Gryffindor girls glaring at him; they watched him and Draco for a few seconds before leaning in to whisper to Feliks, who had been distracted by the glittering pink steam wafting up from his mug. Francis couldn't hear what the girls were saying, but Feliks' voice rang out loud and obnoxious behind them as they walked away: "Oh my god, Parvati, you can't just ask people why they're Death Eaters!"</p>
<p>Draco drew his cloak tighter around himself and he hurried his pace, elbowing people out of the way in his haste to get past the crowd. Francis apologised in response to someone's annoyed shout as they passed a dark, boarded-up shop, and he sidestepped several damaged signs that looked like they had been struck with ricocheting spells. His eyes followed Draco's startled gaze when a small commotion came from their left: Natalya had spotted Ivan lingering in a nearby alleyway, and she had pushed through the crowd and latched onto her brother's cloak like it was a lifeline.</p>
<p>"Brother," she said, staring up at him with wide, watery eyes. "That wretched hat has separated us, but we have finally found each other again. It must be fate that draws us together once more. Now let us get married, married, married..."</p>
<p>Ivan looked absolutely terrified.</p>
<p>"Ah, the little blonde boy!" he said a bit too cheerfully as he caught sight of Malfoy and Francis, and his huge strides caught up with them easily. To his fellow nation, he added, "Hello, comrade. It is nice to see you ignoring your other friend's warnings, isn't it?"</p>
<p>"I decide for myself who I choose to call a friend," Francis replied, while behind them Natalya silently crept up and clamped onto Ivan's cloak again. Draco glanced over at Francis in surprise and, if he wasn't quite mistaken, something tugged at the boy's expression like the tiniest hint of a smile. Before he could respond, however, a rough voice called out from the end of the street, and Francis felt the young Slytherin instantly stiffen beside him.</p>
<p>"Finally decided to show your face, eh, Draco?"</p>
<p>A tall, hooded man with a rather twisted face strode up to them. The few students that happened to be lingering around took one look at him, their faces alight with fear, and instantly hurried away. Draco pressed his thin lips together and straightened up, in an effort, perhaps, to appear unaffected by the man's presence.</p>
<p>"Why are you here, Macnair?" he snapped, and Macnair halted in his tracks, his eyes narrowing.</p>
<p>"Careful," he said, leering. "Daddy can't protect you anymore." He paused to scrutinise the three nations as if inspecting something that had gotten stuck on the bottom of his shoe. "And what's this?"</p>
<p>"Foreigners," Draco said shortly. "They're here to see the Dark Lord's regime. Snape should have told you about them."</p>
<p>Macnair shook his head and then spat on the ground. Francis wrinkled his nose in disgust, but Macnair seemed to have decided that the nations were beyond his consideration and didn't notice. "I don't envy Snape's job, I'll tell you that, having to deal with all this shite. Kids are bad enough."</p>
<p>He started strolling towards a dingy building at the end of the street, a place that the students appeared to be steering clear of—for good reason, Francis thought with distaste, as the unsettling, lifeless eyes of the decapitated boar on the sign above its entrance seemed to watch every person who drew near. Macnair beckoned to Draco over his shoulder. "Come on. Avery's already waiting and he's getting antsy."</p>
<p>Draco's eyes fixed resolutely on the dingy inn, and his hands were clenched into fists so tight that the knuckles were white even against his pale skin. "You can't come with me," he said to Francis, without looking at him. "I—I've got to go on my own."</p>
<p>"Mon ami—"</p>
<p>But Draco ignored him; he was already following Macnair, his slender shoulders set and his chin held up much like a stubborn child. Francis tapped a finger to his pursed lips as he watched his retreating back.</p>
<p>From behind him, Ivan's pleasant, singsong voice came floating in Francis' ear: "Shall we go make some friends, comrade?"</p>
<p>Which is how—against all odds and sense, Francis thought with a rueful shake of his head—the three nations found themselves stooped against the wall just behind the Hog's Head Inn, hidden just out of sight amid the shadows, but close enough to catch snippets of muffled conversation through the grubby, cracked window. Ivan, with his back leaning against the side of the building and his knees drawn up to his body, looked as stiff as a board, his smile growing slightly brittle as Natalya nuzzled ever closer to him.</p>
<p>"... not going to tell Mummy and Daddy you're hanging round that sort?" A new voice was speaking, its timbre thin and reedy, and the nations had to lean in to make out his words. "How d'you know they're not Mudblood filth? Not like we know anything about them foreigners—"</p>
<p>"I've checked," Draco snapped. "I wouldn't waste my energy if they were Mudbloods. Who do you think I am?"</p>
<p>"Heh!" Macnair let out an amused scoff. "Well? Tell us what you've got, then."</p>
<p>There was a brief shuffling of robes. "I had a look at what Snape found," Draco said, somewhat reluctantly. "The most comprehensive records were Bonnefoy's—he's pureblood. It says he sponsored Beauxbatons at the Triwizard Tournament... I thought I recognised him, he must have come for a visit in fourth year."</p>
<p>"Mon dieu, I'm a celebrity!" Francis whispered in delight, feigning a rather dramatic swoon. It was at that point Natalya idly considered taking out the knife she had hidden in her pocket.</p>
<p>"Hmph." The reedy-voiced man didn't sound convinced. "So you don't think this is one of the Order's schemes?"</p>
<p>"If it was, Snape would've known about it," Macnair said dismissively.</p>
<p>"The Order don't trust Snape anymore, you know that."</p>
<p>"You're getting your head in a twist, Avery. I'm not worried about these stupid delegates or whatever they are. Bet half of 'em can't even speak English."</p>
<p>"These people are so charming!" Ivan murmured, muffling a manic little giggle behind his scarf. Beside him, Natalya's eyes flashed at Macnair's words, and Francis wondered if it was too late to extract his arm from Ivan's steely grip and get away from these two.</p>
<p>"Forget about them. What <em>I</em> want to figure out," Macnair continued, "is what we're gonna do with that old bat, Lovegood. Quibbler's been kicking up a riot out there, it's getting out of control."</p>
<p>Avery snorted. "Who would've thought the nutter's got guts like that. Reckon we should send someone?"</p>
<p>"Not up to me. Been trying to get ahold of Travers, but he's off bugger knows where. Got half a mind to go up to Hogwarts and have a chat with Snape about it."</p>
<p>"What the hell's Snape going to do?"</p>
<p>"Old Xeno's got a daughter, hasn't he? If this doesn't shut him up..."</p>
<p>Natalya tilted her head. She was no longer staring at her brother but rather at the grubby little window, apparently listening intently, but Francis couldn't see what she was so interested in. <em>He</em> certainly couldn't recognise any of these names, besides their delightful headmaster. Draco seemed to have fallen silent, and Francis wondered if he had somehow left without the nations realising. With Natalya distracted, Francis seized the opportunity to tiptoe away, and Ivan, who was still clutching onto the Frenchman's arm, immediately understood and followed suit. The two managed to slip back to the main road unnoticed, while Natalya stayed hidden in the shadow of the Hog's Head, suddenly deep in thought.</p>
<hr/>
<p>"May I ask," McGonagall said critically, eyeing the book in Arthur's hand, "why on earth you have that piece of drivel?"</p>
<p>"Morbid curiosity," Arthur grunted. He sidled into a seat next to her, slapped the paperback down onto the bar and waited to catch the barmaid's eye from across the counter. From the photo in the centre of the book's garish cover, Dumbledore's impassive face gazed up at him. "I should get a rebate for all the time and brainpower it wasted. '<em>The truth finally revealed</em>', my arse..."</p>
<p>McGonagall made a faint derisive noise. "I do hope you haven't rewarded that Skeeter woman's nonsense with your gold."</p>
<p>"Oh, absolutely not. I found this copy in one of the jackalopes' pens—a student tried to chuck it, seems like. Suppose they thought it belonged with all the shit in there."</p>
<p>The door of the pub flung open, and Yong Soo bounded inside with a terrifyingly energetic shout. "What's up, Rosmerta!"</p>
<p>"Oh, hello again!" the lively blonde barmaid said, sashaying over to greet him. Arthur furrowed his brows. <em>Again?</em></p>
<p>"Can I take a butterbeer to go? Feliks, Parvati, and Lavender wanna hang out at the tea shop down the street, but the menu at that place sucks. Oh, hey there, teacher!" Yong Soo waved wildly at McGonagall, accidentally knocking several empty glasses to the floor, where they shattered with a spectacular crash. The look on McGonagall's face reminded Arthur rather distinctly of the feeling he got whenever Hong Kong set off fireworks in his bedroom at three in the morning.</p>
<p>Arthur buried his face in his hands. "I am so sorry."</p>
<p>"Rest assured, Professor," she replied over Yong Soo's cheerful apologies as he tried to clean up his mess, "after forty years of witnessing every Transfiguration disaster imaginable, there is no amount of clumsiness that comes as a surprise anymore."</p>
<p>When Yong Soo had paid for his drink and left, slamming the door loudly behind him, the barmaid bustled over to where Arthur and McGonagall were sitting at the bar. "Small gillywater for you, Minerva," she said, sliding a glass filled with clear drink over to her, and then she turned her attention to Arthur. "Well now, you're a new face, aren't you?"</p>
<p>"This is Professor Arthur Kirkland," McGonagall said crisply. "He taught me while I was at school, and he has now returned to Hogwarts to take over the Care of Magical Creatures post."</p>
<p>"Oh, of course! The <em>Prophet</em> mentioned your name when they ran that article about staffing changes at the school. Call me Rosmerta," she said, smiling at him. She gave Arthur a slightly confused once-over, no doubt trying to calculate how a man of his apparent youth could have been a Hogwarts professor in McGonagall's time. He paid it no mind; it definitely wasn't the first time he'd gotten that look.</p>
<p>"Charmed," Arthur said. "I won't keep you for long—I daresay you've got quite a queue to attend to." Indeed, the pub was teeming with visiting students, not least because, among all the shops that still survived on the high street of Hogsmeade, the Three Broomsticks Inn seemed to be the one with the smallest Death Eater presence. "Have you got any rum?"</p>
<p>"Sure have, red currant or black cherry?"</p>
<p>"Black cherry's fine."</p>
<p>Rosmerta filled another glass with something dark red and rather strong-smelling, and she handed it to Arthur, who nodded his thanks. A pair of students then called for her attention from the other side of the room, and with a slightly impatient twitch, she was off again, leaving Arthur and McGonagall among the hubbub.</p>
<p>The rum burned as he washed it down, but the familiar hit of numbness on his lips was a welcome one. Living in a school full of children had forced Arthur to curb back some of his age old drinking habits, though one could pry his secret office stash from his cold, dead hands; nobody needed to know how much whiskey he'd hidden in his storage cupboard beneath piles of textbooks and various bags of pellets. A bit of indulgence once in a while didn't hurt! He just had to make sure he was still coherent enough to teach the next morning.</p>
<p>Today, however, was Saturday, there were no lessons tomorrow, and he absolutely needed booze to quell his anger about that goddamned book.</p>
<p>"It's absurd," Arthur fumed abruptly, and McGonagall glanced over from behind her gillywater, eyebrows raised. "Do you know what sort of crap she's written in this thing?"</p>
<p>"Unfortunately so," McGonagall said, pursing her lips.</p>
<p>"She knows exactly what she's doing, that roach of a woman, I've already heard talk about it at the post office—really, you'd think people would show just a modicum of critical thinking! All she wants is the attention—the thing was published not even a month after Albus' death, for christ's sake! Libel law can't touch her now and she absolutely knows it, and don't even get me started on the idea of Potter being involved in Albus' murder—"</p>
<p>"Oh yes, I do remember hearing about that particular bit of idiocy," McGonagall said disdainfully.</p>
<p>"I worry about the boy, you know," Arthur growled. "It's the last thing he needs, some sensationalist reporter trying to turn people against him and Albus both—and for what, her next fifteen minutes of fame? Fucking self-centred twit."</p>
<p>"I'm not the one whose mind you need to change, Professor," McGonagall said. She cast her gaze down at the paperback with candid dislike. "Take solace in the fact that many of our older students have expressed their distaste for Skeeter's work as well. Regardless of what wizarding society at large thinks, there are still those of us who know the truth."</p>
<p>Arthur scrutinised her for a second, seeing once more a fearless, sharp-tongued sixteen-year-old sitting in front of him in his Defence Against the Dark Arts class, and he took another deep swig of rum.</p>
<p>"You know," he commented, "I've always said that if I were ever to be lectured by one of my own students, it would be you."</p>
<p>"I'm going to assume that you mean that as a compliment," McGonagall said dryly.</p>
<p>"Oh, I do, Miss McGonagall." The corner of his mouth twitched briefly upwards. "You've really grown into your own since the last time I saw you."</p>
<p>Arthur took a moment to glance around; the students were all still absorbed in their own conversations and personal dramas.</p>
<p>"Any news on the sword?" he muttered, lowering his voice so that it blended with the chatter and the faint clinking of glasses. McGonagall didn't react, but instead stared straight ahead at the gleaming, amber-coloured Firewhiskey bottles lining the shelves behind the bar.</p>
<p>"It's in the hands of the Order now," she replied quietly. "I trust that Bill Weasley is more than capable of getting it to the right person."</p>
<p>"If he can even find him," Arthur said, disgruntled. "I've been trying to keep up with that Potterwatch broadcast, but the only useful thing I've gotten is the fact that the boy isn't dead."</p>
<p>"A remarkable feat, you must admit, seeing as half the country is out there looking for him."</p>
<p>"Of course, but it doesn't really help us if we're trying to—"</p>
<p>Suddenly, a series of bangs and a shriek from outside made everyone jump. Arthur and McGonagall instantly leapt from their chairs and burst out the front doors, wands already drawn.</p>
<p>"You think you can say that to me, blood traitor?! You're as filthy as any Mudblood—I'll teach you some respect!"</p>
<p>Fury blazed across Ginny's face as she pointed her wand, shouting "<em>Stupefy</em>!", but the hooded Death Eaters were too quick for her; there was a flash and with a grunt Ginny was knocked flat onto her back, her face suddenly swelling up with painful-looking blisters.</p>
<p>Arthur blasted one of the Death Eaters across the cobblestone street, and the other one whirled around, snarling the beginning of a curse; then out of nowhere, someone came barrelling through the crowd, yelling at the top of his lungs: "Get back here, I ain't finished with you fuckers!"</p>
<p>"What the hell—<em>Beilschmidt</em>!" Arthur bellowed, but Gilbert had already tackled the man to the ground with a heavy <em>thud</em>. The students closest to them scuttled away in terror. In their fight to gain the upper hand, Gilbert and his opponent rolled uncontrollably across the pavement until they bumped into the side of a nearby building, which was when the Death Eater managed to fire another Stinging Hex into the Prussian's eye. Gilbert yowled as his eye exploded in boils and blindly threw the other man off of him.</p>
<p>"Outta the way!"</p>
<p>Macnair and Avery shoved a group of third-years aside as they hurtled down the street, only to be blocked by a furious McGonagall, who unleashed a torrent of white flames onto the newcomers. Avery managed to dodge it, but Macnair howled as the flames caught him across the shoulder, searing off a large chunk of his robes.</p>
<p>"Don't try to stop us, woman!" Avery roared. "<em>Crucio</em>!"</p>
<p>"<em>NO</em>!"</p>
<p>Rage like no other exploded in Arthur; he bolted forward, McGonagall's scream mingling with the blood thundering in his ears, and then with a violent slash the Death Eater stumbled back, yelling, blood spurting from the laceration that had nearly taken his right hand off. For a split second Avery clutched his crimson-slicked forearm, staring down at it in shock, and then Arthur's fist smashed into his face and he fell flat on his back onto the cobblestone street. His eyes widened as a boot stamped on his windpipe, but he only scrabbled for a few seconds before his whole body went limp; only then did Arthur lift his foot in disgust, giving only a cursory glance to the bruise he left on the Death Eater's neck.</p>
<p>Macnair spun around to avenge his fallen ally, but at that moment someone else came running up behind him: Draco Malfoy, who skidded to a halt, his eyes widening as he took in the scene in front of him.</p>
<p>Then Draco stumbled to the side as Francis pushed past him. He found Gilbert staggering to his feet, one hand clutching his eye and the other holding onto a nearby signpost to steady himself, and he immediately rushed to his friend's side. Several metres away, the Death Eater Gilbert had been fighting shook himself off, pointed his wand, but with an affronted glare Francis swiftly threw out a Shield Charm before the curse could hit them.</p>
<p>Ginny had also clambered back to her feet. Her face was still contorted from the Stinging Hex, but through her swollen lips she managed to get out a muffled "<em>Volatilis Lutum</em>!"; the next moment, bats started ravaging the yowling Death Eater's face. His companion, disoriented from being blasted across the street earlier, stumbled over and sent a flying jet of light that completely missed its target, instead hitting a wooden sign which splintered and came crashing down onto the pavement. Then McGonagall's well-aimed Stunner struck him in the back, and he collapsed.</p>
<p>Gilbert wrestled himself out of Francis' grasp, hurtled towards the remaining Death Eater and caught the man's wrist; with a sharp <em>crack</em>, he twisted his whole arm backwards. The Death Eater shrieked and tried to yank his freshly broken arm away, but Gilbert's grip was vice-like on his foe; half-blind, he swung the man around and threw him violently into a building, where the Death Eater buckled and finally slumped unconscious.</p>
<p>Several steps away, spells shot in every direction as Arthur and Macnair duelled, the former spitting out expletives while the latter jeered. A thrill lurched in Arthur's chest as a jet of green light missed him by an inch—</p>
<p>There was a bang, a screech, and suddenly Macnair was flung into the air like a ragdoll. He crashed halfway down the road, and Draco stumbled back in panic as his fellow Death Eater rolled to a stop near his feet, unmoving. Francis and McGonagall glanced at each other; they had both tried to Stun him at the exact same time.</p>
<p>And just like that, the entire street fell silent. The tension was punctuated only by heavy breathing and quiet, intermittent whimpers from students who had taken shelter in the alleyways during the chaos. Every eye was fixed on the group in the centre, the unconscious Death Eaters and the two professors, and hovering near the back of the crowd, Feliks and Yong Soo stared, wide-eyed, both lost for words.</p>
<p>Fighting to quell the anger and adrenaline that was still surging through his veins, Arthur exhaled harshly, straightened up, and shot an icy glare at Ginny, Gilbert, and Francis in turn.</p>
<p>"Back to the castle, all of you," he commanded. "<em>Now.</em>"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Fallout</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A single candle flickered gloomily on Gilbert’s bedside table, dimly illuminating the Prussian’s sullen expression as Madam Pomfrey worked to calm the swelling around his eye. Her rag slopped in and out of some thick, muddy yellow liquid from a shallow bowl, but wherever it touched his skin, it did succeed in cooling down the blisters. Occasionally he would hiss when the matron dabbed at his socket with a bit too much force, but Madam Pomfrey had already rapped him multiple times with her wand for complaining too much, so that was the extent of his protest.</p><p>Watching silently from a chair next to them, Arthur cast a suspicious stare at the bandage wrapped around his fellow nation’s thigh, but he said nothing.</p><p>In the next bed over, her blisters already taken care of, Ginny was still fuming. A stern look from McGonagall had quelled her swearing for now, but the expression on her sore, half-healed face blazed with all the words she clearly wanted to say. Francis perched on the end of Gilbert’s hospital bed, trying to catch Ginny’s eye, but she seemed to be stubbornly evading all of the nations’ gazes.</p><p>“There,” Madam Pomfrey said, dabbling the last of the potion from Gilbert’s face. She levelled a fierce, disapproving look at him as she threw her rag back into the bowl. “I know I scolded Mr Vargas about being reckless, but it seems I’ll have to say the same for you, Mr Beilschmidt.” Her fleeting glance at Gilbert’s leg did not escape the notice of Arthur, who narrowed his eyes. “In any case, that’s the most I can do for you two. Hex injuries are never pretty, but it should all be healed up by tomorrow.”</p><p>“Thank you, Poppy,” McGonagall said from her seat next to Ginny, and Madam Pomfrey flitted off with one last tut, carrying her bowl away and leaving the two professors to deal with their troublesome charges.</p><p>Arthur wasted no time. “What’s happened to your leg?” he asked Gilbert bluntly.</p><p>“That was from an altercation with a student,” McGonagall answered in his stead. “I myself was the one who intervened.”</p><p>Arthur heaved an exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is it really too much,” he growled, “to ask for some <em>goddamn</em> <em>self-control</em>—”</p><p>“You didn’t hear those assholes!” Gilbert burst out angrily. “Both the kid and those guys in the street—they were talking so much shit, you would’ve done the same!”</p><p>“Aside from the fact that I’ve actually got a modicum of sense—”</p><p>“Don’t pretend you’re so above it all! Acting like you’re all goody-goody, as if you weren’t the biggest brute yourself once upon a time—”</p><p>“You shut it!” Arthur snapped, pointedly ignoring Ginny and McGonagall’s questioning looks. “At least I’m not idiotic enough to run my mouth at somebody who’s happy to kill me on sight!”</p><p>“Mes amis, please,” Francis said, lifting a placating hand, but the other two continued to raise their voices over him.</p><p>“Even Feli isn’t such a sissy! Don’t come at me just because I’m not a weakling!”</p><p>“<em>Excuse me</em>?”</p><p>“Gentlemen,” McGonagall cut in sharply. She was staring at Arthur in faint disbelief. Throughout all her years at Hogwarts, there had never been a student, past or present, who managed to stir emotions in her former professor quite to this degree. These representatives, however, seemed to be a different story; they spoke as if they had a history that even a witch of McGonagall’s age couldn’t fathom, and for some reason she couldn’t even begin to explain, sitting next to them while they argued gave her the strange, distinct feeling that it wasn’t her place to interfere.</p><p>“Gilbert, that man indeed could have killed you,” Francis said quietly.</p><p>“Are you kidding me? You think the awesome me would go down to that guy, after all the stuff I’ve lived through already? Hah!” Gilbert forced out a laugh through his bruised ribs, but his cocky grin faded away at the sight of Francis’ expression. There was no fooling him—they both knew painfully well what he meant. Without thinking, Gilbert’s hand darted over his bandaged thigh, which still throbbed with a dull, steady ache even through all the salves they’d put to it over the past few weeks.</p><p>“You’re both damn lucky that McGonagall and I were there to intervene,” Arthur said, now directing his harsh words at Ginny as well, who glared mulishly back at him.</p><p>“The awesome me didn’t need—”</p><p>“Belt it and listen!” Arthur snapped at Gilbert. “I try to cover for you lot while you’re in the castle, but the bottom line is, these people don’t give a toss about you. They use Dark magic. They’ll use the Killing Curse without hesitation. You’re not going to make much of a difference if you’re dead, are you?”</p><p>“So you’re saying we should just roll over and let the Death Eaters think they’ve won?” Ginny said, outraged.</p><p>“I’m saying you need to learn some self-preservation!” Arthur shouted. “Heroism doesn’t mean stupidly throwing yourself in danger’s path at every opportunity!”</p><p>“That bastard used a slur against one of my best friends! He was insulting Hermione, Professor!” Ginny turned to McGonagall now, imploring her for support. “Laughing about how she’s going to deserve whatever sticky end she gets—I couldn’t let him talk about her like that!”</p><p>“As much as I understand your anger, Miss Weasley,” McGonagall said, stern as ever as she gazed down at Ginny’s mutinous face, “what Professor Kirkland is saying is sensible. Attacking a Death Eater on impulse was, quite frankly, foolish beyond belief. It is more imperative than ever for you to keep your temper under control, you must know that.”</p><p>“But—!”</p><p>The look that McGonagall gave her extinguished the rest of Ginny’s protest.</p><p>“Professor Kirkland and I have yet to discuss the situation with the headmaster,” McGonagall continued in a clipped voice. “I’m not sure whether he intends to punish you for your behaviour, but regardless, we will do our best to exonerate you.” She stood up from her chair, then paused to stare critically down at the three offenders over her glasses. “In the meantime, we would appreciate it if you didn’t make this job any more difficult than necessary. Do <em>try</em> to stay out of trouble for the next few hours.”</p>
<hr/><p>“Here you are, Mr Vargas and Mr Vargas—I do apologise that it took so long—”</p><p>Ernie tapped both Feliciano and Lovino on the shoulder in turn, and surreptitiously slipped a Galleon into each of their hands. Feliciano’s eyes lit up. He’d been waiting for this! It was like getting access to a secret club!</p><p>“Ah, grazie!” he said happily, and he held out the coin in a ray of sunlight that fell across his desk, squinting as it gleamed bright, polished gold in his eye. From the desk beside him, Susan watched furtively with a small smile.</p><p>“I won’t profess to understand you representatives, personally,” Ernie said, looking as if he was being rather magnanimous, “but Weasley seems to have an awful lot of faith in that cat of hers—well, Granger’s—and I suppose the two of you aren’t so bad. It does well to have more experienced wands on our side, at least.”</p><p>Lovino scowled up at the boy standing over them, not in the least endeared by his haughty tone, but Feliciano replied as brightly as ever: “It’s no problem! We get to see Elizabeta a lot more now too, so it’s like we’re all living in one big happy house again!”</p><p>Ernie gave him a patronising nod, then he marched back to his seat before anybody else could come in and see the four D.A. members consorting alone in the classroom. They made good time; soon enough, the rest of the seventh-years began to file in. Ernie and Susan noticed Natalya glancing at Feliciano and Lovino in mild surprise, and they wondered if she caught onto the fact that the two Italian brothers had never been this early to class before, but she didn’t comment as she stalked to her usual spot at the back of the room.</p><p>As was typical, the students’ chatter began to fade as two o’clock ticked ever closer, and the atmosphere grew somber with nervous anticipation, but the start of the period came and went and still there was no sign nor sound of Amycus Carrow. Some of the Hufflepuffs glanced uncertainly at each other; occasionally a whisper of confusion broke the silence, and several people’s gazes continued to flicker to the closed door as though the Dark Arts professor would burst in at any second.</p><p>It was ten past two when the door suddenly flung open and half the class yelped in shock. Amycus stumped inside, his stout, doughy face red with rage, and what he pulled along after him made Feliciano and Lovino’s mouths fall open in horror. Behind them, Matthew gave an alarmed start, and Natalya raised her eyebrows.</p><p>“Fahr zur Hölle! Du verdammtes Arschloch! If you think you can break me, du Kümmerling, you’ve got another thing coming—”</p><p>“Shut yer trap!” Amycus snarled. “Garn! I told Flitwick to put a Silencing Charm on this lout!”</p><p>A muffled scraping noise followed Gilbert as he was dragged stiffly by Amycus’ wand across the floor through the open doorway, and with a thump, he was deposited with unceremonial roughness in the centre of the classroom. His arms were bound tightly to his sides and his legs were secured together by thick, black threads of rope, strong enough to hold even as the Prussian twisted and thrashed in his efforts to break free, but even being trussed up like a prisoner didn’t stop Gilbert from spitting out every expletive in the German language at the top of his lungs.</p><p>“Let him go!” Feliciano cried out before he could stop himself.</p><p>“I don’t think so,” Amycus snapped, and with a flick of his wand he slammed the door shut, making several people jump. “This goon’s gonna be our practice dummy today. Don’t want any funny business from you this time,” he said, pointing a crooked finger at Natalya, who simply stared back impassively. “Your little crony here’s gonna get what he deserves, and there ain’t nothin’ you can do to save him—”</p><p>Yelling out a battle cry, Gilbert hurtled himself in a barrel roll across the floor. Amycus swore as he tripped and fell on top of him with a spectacular crash, and fleeting, muffled snorts erupted around the room; several students clapped their hands to their mouths, trying to hide their smirks.</p><p>Amycus clambered back to his feet, looking like a fuse about to blow.</p><p>“You had it comin’!” he bellowed, raising his wand. “<em>Crucio</em>!”</p><p>Amusement instantly turned to terror; a few people cried out in shock, their voices drowned under Gilbert’s sudden howls of pain as he thrashed around more violently than ever, and there was a deafening clatter as he knocked over a chair in his frenzy. The curse only lasted for a few seconds, but even when Amycus flicked his wand to lift it, his face now shiny with malicious satisfaction, Gilbert still twitched uncontrollably on the ground as the aftershocks jolted throughout his body.</p><p>“Brings back good memories, don’t it, representative?” Amycus said, turning triumphantly to Matthew. Ernie and Susan also glanced at him in alarm, but Matthew’s eyes were transfixed on Gilbert, utterly horrified.</p><p>“Leave him alone, damn it!” Lovino burst out.</p><p>Amycus whirled around. Regret was instantly clear on Lovino’s face as the Death Eater advanced on him, sloping up the aisle between desks until he was looming over the cowering Italian with a nasty glint in his eye.</p><p>“’Scuse me?” Amycus said.</p><p>“I didn’t say anything!” Lovino yelped.</p><p>“I think you did. Wanna save your mouthy little friend, do ya?”</p><p>“Shut up! I just don’t want this idiot throwing up all over me!” Lovino pointed to his visibly distressed brother, who was indeed looking quite sick, but even South Italy himself had to suppress his queasiness after watching Gilbert screaming and writhing in front of them.</p><p>The corners of Amycus’ mouth curled up. “Right. If you insist, I’ll play nice,” he said. “Cut you a deal—you choose one of them other brats, and we can swap. Still gotta have one test rat for our lesson today, but ya got your pick.”</p><p>All of a sudden, many of the Hufflepuffs were avoiding the nations’ eyes. Matthew literally couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A humourless breath of laughter escaped from his lips; choose one of the kids to replace Gilbert? How the heck were they supposed to answer that?!</p><p>Lovino’s mouth snapped shut in panic.</p><p>“Can’t even pick one, huh? Well, you’re damn lucky already, lemme tell you, there were meant to be two of ‘em here.” An irritated frown passed over Amycus’ face. “Snape decided it wouldn’t work on the girl, apparently their whole family’s a bunch of shit stirrers—says last thing we want is some rebellious little wench thinkin’ about revenge or whatever. Got her banned from Hogsmeade instead, so she can’t cause any more trouble.” He glanced down and gave Gilbert’s shoulder a shove with his foot. “Feh. Least we got this one.”</p><p>Ernie turned around in his chair, and to his absolute shock, both Feliciano and Lovino actually seemed as if they were tempted.</p><p>“You’re not really considering it, are you?” he whispered to them, appalled. “Do use your heads—he’s a Slytherin, for heaven’s sake!”</p><p>Feliciano chewed his bottom lip anxiously.</p><p>“He’s bound to be <em>that</em> sort, if the Hat put him in that House,” Ernie continued urgently. “One could even say they deserve a taste of their own medicine—without a doubt, if the tables were turned—”</p><p>“Stop saying that! Gilbert wouldn’t want any of this to happen!” Feliciano cried.</p><p>“So you want me to do it to him instead?” Amycus said, and with another whip of his wand, there was a sharp smack and Ernie grunted indignantly.</p><p>“Fratellone!”</p><p>“You’re not helping!” Lovino snapped at his brother.</p><p>“You can’t do it, Mr Vargas,” Susan murmured, wide-eyed and pale as a ghost. “Ernie didn't do anything, he doesn't deserve this!”</p><p>“I will, then,” Matthew said abruptly. Nobody seemed to hear him, but then he stood with such force that his chair scraped the floor behind him with a resounding squeal; that definitely got their attention. Ignoring the short, scattered protests from the Hufflepuffs, as well as the headache he was already getting just imagining Alfred’s reaction, he shuffled up to Amycus with his mouth set in a grim, determined line. Behind him, Natalya watched him in silence. She never pretended to be on the same wavelength as Alfred’s less irritating brother, but she had followed his gaze dispassionately to the bandage on Gilbert’s leg, then to his sore, unhealed eye, and she understood: any of the other nations would be safer than Prussia, as much as that annoying, loud-mouthed fool tried to pretend that he was still the same as the rest of them.</p><p>“Don’t worry—<em>geh!</em>—about me!” Gilbert panted, flashing a cocky grin through the kick that slammed into his ribs.</p><p>“Lookee here, you got a knight in shining armour,” Amycus sneered. “You gonna take his place, rep?”</p><p>Matthew took a deep breath and nodded stiffly. The Death Eater laughed, a rough, mocking sound that made Matthew’s skin prickle, and with a careless swipe of his wand he shoved Gilbert into the corner of the room, keeping him tightly bound so that he couldn’t interfere.</p><p>“Don’t think Alecto managed to make you scream last time, but we’ll see how you do a second round,” Amycus said casually. “<em>Petrificus Totalus</em>!”</p><p>Matthew’s arms and legs snapped together and he toppled, stiff as a board, with a crash onto the floor. Feliciano stifled a frightened squeak.</p><p>“So since we’re taking this country back to the good ol’ days, I reckon we should bring back a fine punishment that ain’t done in these parts anymore. Used to be a fun one to use on Muggles, but apparently it was too <em>barbaric</em>.” Amycus enunciated the last word in a high, derisive voice that evoked the prim and proper tones of the Wizengamot. “Now each of you’s gonna get a turn, and if you refuse, you’ll be joining that lout down there, I don’t give a shit.” He flicked his wand at Matthew. “Watch and learn, kiddies. <em>Calcimbrus</em>!”</p><p>A small cloud of stones suddenly pelted down on the helpless Canadian, opening tiny gashes onto the vulnerable flesh of his face and neck. Trapped by the Full Body-Bind Curse, Matthew could only shut his eyes with each strike of sharp, jagged rock, determined not to give Amycus the satisfaction of a single whimper.</p><p>The strangest sensation was beginning to overcome him though; it was as if ice was settling on the surface of his skin, gradually numbing it to whatever assault that Amycus and the reluctant students threw at him, and Matthew wondered for a fleeting moment if the professor had somehow cursed him to die right there on the cold, weathered floor. For a long, long time, however, while he laid there with his eyes closed to avoid seeing the looks of guilt on the students’ faces as they lined up to stone him, he still remained very much alive, but could not feel much of anything anymore. No wounds, no pain at all; it was only when the bell rang and the punishment was finally allowed to end that he started to wonder if he had a protector himself in that room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. A Question of Trust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ludwig had already vetoed his brother’s idea of sending Antonio an enchanted toilet seat in the post, and so from that perspective, he supposed a Howler was an improvement. Marginally.</p><p>It was probably better for Gilbird as well, carrying a letter rather than having to haul a massive porcelain object halfway across Europe. Ludwig examined the envelope in his hand once more: it seemed innocent enough, tied with bright red ribbons and sealed neatly with a golden wax stamp, and in one corner, in Gilbert’s crisp, neat handwriting, “<em>From the Awesome Teutonic Knight (and Frannie)</em>”.</p><p>On any other day, Gilbert would have eagerly come along with Ludwig to the Owlery, but this particular evening he was busy keeping Matthew company in the Hospital wing, feeling guilty that Canada of all people had to take a punishment in his defence. Ludwig had joined them very briefly, but his repertoire of comforting words was limited. Instead of awkwardly standing by Matthew’s bedside with the two of them, he'd quickly mumbled something about finding Feliciano and Lovino and seeing if they could get in some Patronus practice before the end of the night; that was when Gilbert brightened up and asked him to do him a favour along the way.</p><p>The Owlery at this hour was just beginning to awaken. Against the backdrop of the rising moon, its residents blinked and stretched out their wings, some preening their feathers, others hooting softly, rousing themselves for another long night of hunting. Piercing eyes swivelled around to look at the visitor who quietly slipped in, staring down at him from all sides like a silent tribunal. Ludwig ignored them all with stoic indifference. His gaze sought out only one bird among many, the tiniest one by far, standing out like a bright yellow daisy among steep walls of grey and brown.</p><p>Without wasting a moment, he marched up several flights of stone steps to reach Gilbird, who peeped happily at the sight of a familiar face. Ludwig hesitated, unsure what exactly the protocol was for interacting with birds, but eventually settled for giving Gilbird an awkward pat on the head like he would with one of his dogs, and offered him a small leaf of cabbage that Gilbert had nicked from dinner. (<em>“He usually eats top quality sauerkraut,”</em> Gilbert had proclaimed when he gave Ludwig the cabbage, <em>“but I can’t find any here ‘cause England has shit taste, so I guess this is the best we’ll get.”</em>)</p><p>While Gilbird pecked at the cabbage, Ludwig tied the Howler securely to his tiny leg with a small, thin piece of string. “Take this to Antonio Fernández Carriedo,” he ordered, trying his best to pronounce the Spanish name as clearly as possible, and the bird chirped his acknowledgement.</p><p>He was already halfway back down the steps when Gilbird flew off with his new burden. It was nearing curfew, and the unflinchingly lawful German was absolutely intent on getting back to the Slytherin common room in good time.</p><p>When he saw three familiar faces peeking in through the doorway, however, he halted in his tracks.</p><p>“Ludika!” Elizabeta said, waving up at him. “We thought we heard you in here. What are you doing?”</p><p>Ludwig took a moment to recover from his surprise. “Good evening. I was helping my brother deliver a letter to Spain.”</p><p>“Oh, was that the red thing his bird was carrying?” she asked curiously, pointing out the open window where Gilbird had just disappeared into the night sky.</p><p>Feliciano perked up. “Ah! I think I remember seeing Gilbert with that letter in Charms class! I asked him why he was writing ‘penis’ in it over and over again, but he wouldn’t tell me.”</p><p>Ludwig’s face contorted in a disapproving, but not entirely unsurprised expression.</p><p>“<em>Really</em>? Are these people in primary school?” Elizabeta sighed. “I almost feel sorry for Antonio.”</p><p>“Don’t,” Lovino said dismissively. “It’s his own fault for hanging out with dumbasses.”</p><p>By now, Ludwig had descended to the bottom level of the Owlery, where he was met with a bouncing, enthusiastic hug from Feliciano. “Why are the three of you wandering around so late?” he asked in return, rather more sternly than he intended. He meant it only as a passing question, because surely Elizabeta being among them meant that they weren’t doing anything foolish, but the hesitant looks that Elizabeta, Feliciano, and Lovino exchanged made Ludwig raise his eyebrows.</p><p>“I wanna tell him!” Feliciano blurted out at last, looking over at Elizabeta, who seemed rather torn.</p><p>“I wish we could as well,” she said contritely. “But we made a promise not to.”</p><p>If Ludwig hadn’t suspected anything before, he certainly did now. “You’re not causing trouble, I hope. Gilbert has been giving me enough headaches as it is.”</p><p>“Of course not!” Elizabeta said, and her suddenly dangerous expression reminded Ludwig why he tried not to compare Elizabeta and Gilbert in casual conversation. “Besides, we could never match that prat’s level of stupidity.”</p><p>Ludwig was still frowning at them, trying to recall if he'd seen these three acting strangely as of late. He hadn’t been able to get ahold of the Italian brothers for Patronus practice for quite a while, but up until now he hadn’t thought much of it, since communicating meeting times had been difficult without any way to send messages to one another. “How long have you been hiding these secret outings?” he asked.</p><p>“We’re not hiding anything!” Lovino shouted much too quickly, and he coughed and straightened up to try and smooth over the squeak that barely sounded like the word “anything”. Elizabeta shot him a mildly amused look.</p><p>“Not that long. It’s something we’re doing to help the students,” she explained, which was as much as she could say, apparently, without breaking their alleged promise. “We’ve been trying to persuade them to allow the rest of you in on it, but... I confess it’s been a battle.”</p><p>“Your area of expertise, then,” Ludwig said. He paused. “In that case... as long as you can reassure me that you are not causing chaos, I won’t ask any further. But you must tell me everything as soon as these students change their minds.”</p><p>Elizabeta blinked momentarily, and then she broke into a bright, appreciative smile that made Ludwig avert his eyes in embarrassment.</p><p>“Don’t worry, we’ll convince them!” Feliciano said. “I keep telling them that you’re super nice, even though your training’s really scary and you don’t allow snack breaks or siestas! But I don’t think they really care about that stuff, they’re just suspicious of you and Gilbert and big brother France because you’re all in Slyth—”</p><p>Elizabeta suddenly pressed a finger to Feliciano’s lips, and his eyes widened, but her wary gaze was fixed on something behind them, lurking unseen in the shadows of the torchlit hallway.</p><p>“Footsteps—somebody’s coming.”</p><p>She pulled Feliciano and Lovino further into the room, instructing both of them in a calm, brisk voice: “Right, just like we practised last week—a single tap and then ‘<em>Disillusio</em>’—”</p><p>They both took out their wands, Feliciano rather enthusiastically, Lovino much less so, and Ludwig blinked down at Feliciano who was now stretching for the top of his head but couldn’t quite reach. Ludwig cautiously bent down. He felt an earnest rap on his hairline, and then there was the peculiar, unsettling sensation of something cold and wet dripping down his back, as if a raw egg had been cracked over his head. When he glanced down at himself, his forehead creased: his entire body seemed to have taken the appearance of the stone wall behind him.</p><p>The next second he looked up at his companions again, but they, too, had seemingly vanished into their surroundings, and if it wasn’t for the warmth of Feliciano’s hand around his, tugging him towards the spot where Elizabeta and Lovino had been standing mere moments before, Ludwig would have sworn that there was nobody else in that room at all.</p><p>No sooner had they flattened themselves against the wall did the stout, sloping figure of Argus Filch enter the room, his nose in the air as if trying to sniff them out.</p><p>“You’re in here somewhere,” the caretaker muttered. “I know I heard voices...”</p><p>Feliciano was clutching his hand so hard that Ludwig was concerned it would lose circulation, but none of the nations made any sound nor movement as Filch’s sharp, glinting gaze swept slowly around the Owlery, twice passing over where they stood. The rustling of feathers from above seemed deafening in the otherwise silent tower. Ludwig remained absolutely still, every muscle tensed like a soldier standing at attention, and a silent command repeated over and over in his mind, willing both Italian brothers not to lose their heads and blow their position.</p><p>Filch took a few steps forward, halted, and then abruptly a claw-like hand swiped outwards as if trying to grab something in front of him. His knobbly fingers closed on nothing but air, however, and with a frustrated grunt, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the tower, muttering under his breath a string of unintelligible threats. When the tail of his fraying brown coat disappeared back into the corridor, Feliciano immediately let out a huge sigh, and his grip on Ludwig’s hand slackened.</p><p>“Thank you,” Ludwig said gruffly once he was confident that the danger had passed. “That camouflage magic was very smart.”</p><p>“It was nothing, you bastard!” Lovino snapped.</p><p>“You can always count on Elizabeta to come up with a good plan!” Feliciano said happily, and Elizabeta giggled.</p><p>“Oh, you little sweet-talker!” she said, giving his hair an affectionate ruffle. “Right, that’s certainly a sign that we should leave. We might as well keep the charm on now, it’ll help us avoid detection on the way back to our common rooms... Ludika, you’re closer to the Hufflepuff room than I am, would you be a dear and take these two from here? I trust you can keep them out of trouble.”</p><p>Wearily thinking that he’d been trying to keep North Italy out of trouble ever since he met him, Ludwig grunted in acquiescence. Satisfied, Elizabeta started heading towards the exit, but something was still nagging at Ludwig. Earlier, she said that they'd been practising...</p><p>“Where did you learn this spell?” he asked.</p><p>“Another secret, I’m afraid,” Elizabeta said, and she gave him a faint, apologetic smile before gesturing for the other three to leave first. “I promise we’ll tell you everything soon.”</p>
<hr/><p>“So we’ll steal back all the copies at once and bring them here, then we can split up in groups of three—that should be enough to hit every floor. And you’re sure they’re hidden on the fourth floor?” Ginny asked Elizabeta, who nodded.</p><p>“Feliks heard that Carrow woman talking about it with her associates. Apparently there’s a classroom that’s been in disuse for many years, so they locked away all of the confiscated magazines in there.” The Gryffindor nations' dormitory had become a place for information exchange lately (“Like a secret spy bunker!” Alfred had commented, bouncing with excitement). The underground passage that Feliks, Toris, and Yong Soo now used regularly was proving to be quite useful: it seemed that the Carrows liked to venture into Hogsmeade to liaise with their fellow Death Eaters, and they tended to speak much more frankly when there weren’t any students around to overhear them.</p><p>Instead, there were just a few eavesdropping nations who were too nosy and far too reckless for their own good. It certainly explained why Feliks and Yong Soo had been inexplicably disappearing from Gryffindor Tower almost as often as Alfred and Elizabeta.</p><p>Sitting cross-legged on Ginny’s other side, Neville frowned at the map they had ripped out from his old copy of <em>Hogwarts: A History</em>, which was now annotated with circles and roughly drawn arrows. They had about five minutes until the start of the D.A. meeting, and he, Ginny, and Luna were just running their plan by Elizabeta before explaining it to everybody else. His stomach was squirming with a nervous sort of excitement to go out on a big, rebellious mission, and his mind kept running wild as he imagined how the Carrows were going to react.</p><p>“Daddy’s going to be so pleased,” Luna said happily. “It’s sad that these are old issues though. He published an exposé in the newest one about the Minister for Magic’s secret vampire ancestry, it’s quite interesting.”</p><p>Elizabeta blinked. “Is your Minister actually—”</p><p>“Probably not,” Ginny said. “Right, so—me, Luna, and Neville are each going to lead a group—”</p><p>“What? I am?” Neville said, alarmed.</p><p>“Of course you are, silly.” She looked offended that he would even think otherwise.</p><p>“Ginny, I don’t think anyone’s going to listen to the bloke who used to hex himself into the hospital wing at least once a month.”</p><p>“This isn’t really about magic skill though,” Luna said. “Besides, you’ve been getting much better, haven’t you noticed that?”</p><p>Neville blushed bright pink, trying not to look too pleased with himself.</p><p>“You and Hannah are probably the ones who know the greenhouses best,” Ginny said. “It makes sense to put you two in charge there.” She punched him lightly on the arm. “Stop flogging yourself, Longbottom. If you can go toe-to-toe with Death Eaters at the Ministry, you can sneak around a couple of twats in your own school.”</p><p>“Shall we say... three people in a group?” Luna said.</p><p>“Yeah, we can let everyone choose who they want to work with,” Ginny said. “We'll just have to make sure to split it up evenly so that we don’t have twenty people going for one room. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws would probably be better off tackling the upper floors while Hufflepuffs take the lower ones, in case we need to make a quick escape back to our common rooms.”</p><p>“Sounds like a plan,” Elizabeta said, giving the three an encouraging smile.</p><p>“This is exciting!” Luna said dreamily. “Perhaps we should make badges for our group... we’ll need to come up with a team name...”</p><p>Ginny and Neville stood up from their cushions to join the other students milling around them, both quite happy with what they had, while Luna began to drift away towards the other Ravenclaws. Elizabeta hesitated for only a split second.</p><p>“Could I speak to you three for a moment?” she asked, and they all paused to look back.</p><p>It had been a few days since she, Feliciano, and Lovino had bumped into Ludwig at the Owlery, and the subject of allowing the Slytherin nations into the D.A. had been brewing quietly in her mind ever since. Any mention of it tended to be immediately, resolutely shut down by the students, and she suspected more than a few of them were getting annoyed of talking about it—not exactly the precedent they wanted to set if they were to endear their fellow nations to them.</p><p>Ginny immediately bristled. “If this is about the Slytherins again—”</p><p>“I just think it would be good to reconsider,” Elizabeta said, matching Ginny’s temper with a stern look of her own.</p><p>“Those people want my best friends dead! I’m telling you, we’re not working with them!”</p><p>“I must say, you’re being rather narrow-minded. Just because that hat put them in a certain House—”</p><p>“Excuse me?” Ginny snapped, and silence fell over the rest of the room as everybody looked over in alarm.</p><p>“You okay, dudes?” Alfred called out.</p><p>“We’re just having a discussion,” Elizabeta replied in an even tone, still frowning at Ginny.</p><p>“If you think I’m going to sit here and let—” Ginny began hotly.</p><p>“We shouldn’t fight,” Neville said uncertainly, holding up his hands between Ginny and Elizabeta, who were each refusing to be the first to break eye contact. “I get what you’re saying, Miss Héderváry—I do!” he added hastily when Ginny threw him an indignant look. “I mean, well—if we’re just talking about the representatives... you lot seem all right.” He glanced over at Kiku, who looked up from <em>The Counter-Curse Handbook: Fourth Edition</em>, which he had been perusing with Feliciano.</p><p>“What is this about?” Kiku asked, his forehead creasing slightly.</p><p>“I just thought it’d be nice if we could allow our colleagues in Slytherin to join the D.A.,” Elizabeta said. “But the children seem to be hesitant.”</p><p>“It’s like you don’t understand what sort of people they are!” Ginny said.</p><p>“I do hope you’re not being serious,” Ernie said, frowning at the nations in disbelief. “For heaven’s sake, Nott was telling everybody in Potions yesterday about how his father escaped Azkaban with all of their other Death Eater friends. Not to mention, the rumours say that Malfoy is one of them himself..."</p><p>“Goyle... he’s in Slytherin, in our year... his father was one of the Death Eaters who murdered my mother,” Hannah said quietly.</p><p>The nations fell silent.</p><p>“D’you want to know how I got these?” Seamus said loudly, yanking his arm away from Heracles, who had been meticulously trying to heal the cursed burn wounds that extended from Seamus’ shoulder down to his wrist. He held out his injured arm towards Elizabeta, glaring at her. “Some Slytherins decided to tell me that my best mate was good as dead, and <em>good riddance</em>, they said, so I told ‘em where they could shove that shite—”</p><p>“Look, Ludwig and Gilbert are the last people who’d say stuff like that, trust me,” Alfred said, though he swelled up in anger at Seamus’ story. “But if you need someone to go beat those assholes up—”</p><p>“For the last time, Alfred, we are not beating up students!” Elizabeta reprimanded him.</p><p>“At least he’s got the guts to fight them,” Ginny snapped, earning an insulted scowl from Elizabeta. “Point is, do you really think it’s a coincidence that every single You-Know-Who supporter is from Slytherin?”</p><p>“I remember when I met Mr Ludwig though,” Susan said, glancing at Feliciano. “He’s a bit frightening, but... when I talked to him, I didn’t think he was a bad person. Nothing like the Carrows at all.”</p><p>“Mr Williams says Mr Bonnefoy is quite nice as well,” Luna piped up. “Apparently they’re like family to one another.”</p><p>“Bonnefoy’s been chummy with Malfoy this entire time,” Parvati said indignantly. “We saw them in Hogsmeade, clearly he hasn’t told him to piss off yet—how nice could he be if he spends all his time with people like that?”</p><p>“I dunno, I think I'd trust Mr Williams’ judgment,” Susan said, knotting her fingers in her lap.</p><p>“Susan, you’re agreeing with <em>Lovegood</em>,” Parvati said, raising her eyebrows and looking covertly at Luna over her shoulder.</p><p>“They chose their side,” Lavender insisted, jumping to her best friend’s defence. “I’m not saying they’re Death Eaters, but they’re going to be around You-Know-Who’s little followers every minute of the day. It’ll be impossible to keep the D.A. a secret!”</p><p>“Why can’t we just make them sign something swearing not to tell?” Padma said. “It worked last time when that Edgecombe girl blabbed.”</p><p>“We don’t have Granger’s parchment anymore,” Terry pointed out, frowning, and Michael threw him a swift side glance, as though he already knew what was on his mind.</p><p>“Think you could recreate it, Terry?”</p><p>“Not sure. It’s sort of complicated, making sure the jinx goes off at the right time and all... ‘course, matching Granger’s level is pretty much impossible either way.”</p><p>“We’ll sign anything you want, we promise! We want our friends to be your friends too!” Feliciano said frantically. From the cushion beside him, Kiku glanced over with the faintest trace of a frown.</p><p>“Please do not put your name on anything that may be jinxed,” he implored, though his voice was drowned out by several others arguing around them.</p><p>“And what about Gilbert?” Elizabeta was saying to Ginny halfway across the room, still determined to change her mind, and Ginny looked back at her with surprise. “Yes, he’s told me about what happened in Hogsmeade—he refuses to shut up about it, in fact—but you’d think, surely, somebody so willing to defend you is somebody you can trust. It’s the same reason you started trusting me, isn’t it?"</p><p>Ginny’s lips set in a mulish line, but she said nothing. Neville, who was watching anxiously beside them, caught her eye and gave her a beseeching look, some unspoken communication occurring between the two of them, and Elizabeta suspected that the two had already had some very long discussions about this very subject.</p><p>“We’ll think about it,” Ginny said at last, glowering as she snatched up the annotated map, which had been forgotten in the face of their argument. And that was the very best answer she was going to get, it seemed.</p><p>As soon as the other two turned away, intent on getting the meeting back on track, Elizabeta let out a small sigh. Of course, she hadn’t mentioned all the times that she'd fought alongside a fellow nation only to stand opposite them in the very next war, or how many times she’d witnessed alliances forming and falling apart just in Europe alone. And here she was, trying to persuade these teenagers to work with people they didn't trust and not to fear the possibility of betrayal. <em>Do as I say</em>, the aphorism went...</p><p>“Humans are different... bonds of trust mean more to them than they do to us,” Heracles murmured next to her, nearly making Elizabeta jump out of her skin. She hadn’t heard him shuffling over amid all the quarrelling voices. “You seem to understand them very well.”</p><p>“I do remember what it’s like to be young and stubborn,” she said with a wry smile.</p><p>Heracles didn’t look at her, but instead watched with a mildly vacant expression as Ginny, Neville, and Luna tried to break up the scattered arguments around the room and gather all the students together. He and Elizabeta hung on the fringes of the group, and nobody else was near enough to hear when he spoke next: “They are very opinionated... I don’t know whether you’ll be able to convince them.”</p><p>“We’ll get there in the end, I’ll make sure of that,” Elizabeta said firmly. “I did make Ludika a promise, after all.”</p>
<hr/><p>Matthew was hoping that everybody would be asleep by the time he returned to the dormitories. It must have been nearing midnight; the common room was empty, the fireplace smoking faintly with the last wisps of extinguished cinders, and he crept up the stairs to the nations’ bedroom in absolute silence, exhausted but glad to be out of the hospital wing and out of Madam Pomfrey’s hair. No matter how much she insisted that he wasn’t being a bother at all, and not to be daft because this was her job, he still felt bad that he was taking up attention and bedspace in the first place.</p><p>Gilbert had already been persuaded to return to the Slytherin common room before Snape could find an excuse to punish him again, this time for staying out after curfew. And here Matthew was, thinking Alfred would be the biggest one to worry about...</p><p>A small shift of movement in the shadows caught his attention, and Matthew paused, blinking, his hand resting on the wooden door that led to the dormitories. That collection of colourful, overlarge woolly hats looked very familiar.</p><p>“Dobby?” he murmured.</p><p>The little house-elf spun around, and the stack of hats that he wore precariously on his head nearly toppled over.</p><p>“Mr Williams, sir!” Dobby squeaked, his huge green eyes shiny with relief. He tottered over from where he had been sweeping behind a nearby couch. “Dobby has been wondering where Mr Williams went, for Professor Snape has not been sending Dobby to see him for a very long time—Dobby has been volunteering to clean the Hufflepuff common room many times in hopes of seeing if he is all right!”</p><p>“O-oh,” Matthew said lamely, a bit lost for words at the thought that Dobby would remember him at all, let alone be so concerned as to try and find out what happened to him after he’d been released from the dungeons. The Carrows’ torture really must have taken a toll on him if Dobby was this worried.</p><p>“Mr Williams is still looking a bit tired on his feet,” Dobby observed, his expression quickly shifting to one of anxiety as he stood on his tiptoes to get a better look at Matthew’s face. “Dobby can bring him a cup of tea if he likes, or perhaps some warm milk—”</p><p>“No, I’m fine... thanks though,” Matthew said, and he was able to muster up a faint hint of a smile.</p><p>“It is no problem at all, sir!” Dobby said. “Dobby knows Mr Williams has suffered much, yet Mr Williams does not falter, oh no, he is keeping his courage even throughout the most terrible of agonies!” The elf’s entire body quivered in fright, and he regarded Matthew with such awe that Matthew shifted uncomfortably on the spot.</p><p>“It really wasn’t a big deal,” he mumbled, but Dobby shook his head emphatically, his massive, bat-like ears flapping from side to side.</p><p>“It is most grievous a curse, sir, Dobby knows of it well, Dobby has—has seen it many times in—in the house of his old masters—”</p><p>His bulging eyes became even more huge and he clapped his hands to his mouth as if he had said something unspeakably vulgar, and then suddenly, to Matthew’s shock, he launched himself at the wall and began slamming his forehead into the stone.</p><p>“<em>Bad Dobby</em>! <em>Bad</em>!”</p><p>Matthew immediately rushed over to pull Dobby away from the wall. “Hey, calm down!” he said hastily. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a house-elf do this, but the sight never got any less disturbing. He cast a brief, nervous glance at the door to the dormitories, praying that they didn’t end up waking half the Hufflepuffs in the dead of the night. “You don’t have to punish yourself, you didn’t do anything wrong—I mean—I don’t think you did!”</p><p>Dobby took a great, shuddering breath and looked up at Matthew with gratitude. “Th-thank you, sir,” he said in a trembling voice. “Dobby still finds it difficult to speak of his old masters’ secrets... he has always been f-forbidden to speak of what he has seen...”</p><p>He went slightly limp in Matthew’s arms, which reassured the Canadian enough to carefully release him. To his relief, Dobby did not attempt to go for the wall a second time.</p><p>“Your old masters... they tortured people too?” Matthew asked quietly.</p><p>Dobby gulped and then gave a tiny nod.</p><p>“Were they also... one of them? You know—Death Eaters?”</p><p>The elf hesitated for a moment before nodding again, even more frantically. Matthew’s eyes softened with sympathy.</p><p>“Sorry you had to see it again,” he murmured. Watching who-knows-how-many people being subjected to the Cruciatus Curse must have been unbearable in itself.</p><p>“Dobby does not mind, Dobby is only wanting for Mr Williams to get better again!” Dobby said with a fervent, almost frightened sort of determination shining on his face.</p><p>“I’m feeling fine, I promise,” Matthew said gently. “I just... really need a good night’s sleep.”</p><p>Dobby gave him an enthusiastic bow. “If sleep is what sir is wishing for, Dobby will let sir go to bed at once! He will provide extra pillows or fresh sheets if Mr Williams is wanting—”</p><p>“That’s really nice of you to offer, but seriously, you don’t have to. Thank you though.” And with that, Matthew managed to bid Dobby good night, though not before politely agreeing to visit him in the kitchens sometime, since it was so close by. The elf was exhausting, but endearing in his own way, Matthew had to admit. His mind continued to wander back to the fact that Dobby actually <em>remembered</em> him even after all these weeks, and his steps felt just a bit lighter as he went up to the nations’ bedroom, slipped inside, and closed the door silently behind him.</p><p>“So you did choose to come back.”</p><p>A deadpan voice greeted him from the darkness, and Matthew jumped about a metre into the air.</p><p>“Belarus, don’t <em>do</em> that!” he hissed, his hand flying up to his chest. “Jesus, at least warn a guy if you’re going to wait for him like an axe murderer...”</p><p>“I apologise,” Natalya said stonily. “I will be sure to greet you with a party horn the next time you come crawling back in the middle of the night.”</p><p>Once he was sure that he was, in fact, not going to keel over from a heart attack, Matthew tiptoed over to his four-poster bed. He paused briefly once to listen to the steady rhythm of breathing as he passed the other two beds in the room: Feliciano and Lovino were burrowed deep in their blankets, looking like dark, shapeless lumps in the moonless night, both long since fast asleep. Sitting on top of Matthew’s own sheets was Natalya, her legs folded elegantly underneath her dressing gown and her expressionless face turned towards the window. Even as Matthew approached, she made no movement to allow him into his own covers. He ended up perching awkwardly on the edge of the bed instead.</p><p>“Were you actually waiting for me?” he asked, keeping his voice at a whisper so as not to wake the other two.</p><p>“I have something to ask you,” Natalya said.</p><p>“Oh. Okay.”</p><p>Natalya regarded him critically. “You thought I was here out of concern for you?”</p><p>“I mean, not really,” Matthew said, shrugging. “It would’ve made up for you scaring the living crap out of me, though.”</p><p>She scoffed. “Unlike our comrades, I was not worried. You were not going to suffer because of what happened in that class. I made sure of that.”</p><p>“So you were the one who cast that spell on me?”</p><p>“Numbing Charm,” Natalya said shortly. “I’ve always found it useful.”</p><p>“It really helped,” Matthew murmured. “Thank you.”</p><p>A moment of silence fell between them, punctuated only by Feliciano’s gentle snoring. When Matthew spoke up again, his voice was half-muffled behind a black plush throw pillow, which he had absentmindedly picked up just to have something to hug.</p><p>“Hey, um... if something like this happens again, and it ends up being a student... can you promise that you’ll protect them too? We might not be able to take every punishment for them, but we can at least stop them from getting hurt.”</p><p>Natalya’s eyes were still fixed out the window, glinting dark, icy blue in the distant starlight, and try as he might, Matthew couldn’t discern an ounce of emotion in them. For a long time, she didn’t respond. Matthew started to pick anxiously at a loose thread in the pillow.</p><p>“You are always too soft-hearted, Canada,” she said at last.</p><p>“So... is that a yes?”</p><p>She let out an impatient sigh. “If your idea is going to work, the teachers need to believe that they are still causing pain. Do not blame me if they eventually catch on. Most children are not good actors.”</p><p>His lips twitched up in a faint smile. It was as close to a yes as he was going to get. “Thanks, Belarus. Anyway... what did you need to ask me about?”</p>
<hr/><p>“<em>FILCH! I TOLD YOU TO GET RID OF THIS SHIT</em>—!”</p><p>“Oh dear,” McGonagall said dryly, turning her gaze towards the ceiling with supreme indifference. There was a very faint rattling noise coming from above; Amycus must have been several floors further up, but the noise of his enraged bellowing and the cacophony of spells he was blasting around seemed to carry throughout the entire castle.</p><p>McGonagall turned a critical eye to the sixth-years sitting in front of her, many of whom were trying to stifle their snickers with great effort. It was no secret just what was putting Amycus in such a temper: every day for the past three days, copies of <em>The</em> <em>Quibbler</em> had been mysteriously appearing in every classroom across the school, tacked on boards and strewn on desks, along with graffiti boasting that even terror wouldn’t be able to silence the truth.</p><p>“It seems I need to speak with Professor Carrow again about the concept of a conducive learning environment,” McGonagall said, just as something large and heavy shattered above them.</p><p>From her desk, not even bothering to hide her glee, Ginny was on top of the world. She didn’t even care that she was too distracted to Transfigure her Flobberworm to a fritter for an entire hour, and the impish grin never left her face despite the stern look that McGonagall gave her when she returned the Flobberworm to its tank at the end of the lesson.</p><p>“For next class,” McGonagall said when the bell rang, “you are to read the entirety of chapter four of your textbook, which details the basics of human Transfiguration. It is a very broad and immensely difficult topic, and I expect you all to be fully prepared when we begin. You are dismissed.”</p><p>Ginny found Neville waiting for her just outside the door of the classroom, huddled inconspicuously against the wall, chewing on his fingernails and reading over his Charms notes with a slight air of desperation. The parchment was stained with splotches of deep purple, and there was a matching purple stain smudged faintly on his left cheek.</p><p>Bookbag slung across her back, Ginny skipped up to him and punched him on the shoulder to get his attention.</p><p>“Hard lesson today?” she asked sympathetically.</p><p>Neville gave a restless nod. “Flitwick’s always nice about it, of course, but this N.E.W.T. level stuff is killing me,” he moaned. “We were supposed to be making grapes dry into raisins, but somehow I made mine explode—there was so much juice too, no idea where it all came from, it was just one grape—!”</p><p>“You’ll be fine, you always get the hang of things after practising a bit. Come on, we’ve still got an hour before dinner. We can stop by the kitchens to nick some more grapes—”</p><p>The crowd filtering out of the classroom suddenly parted, and many passing students threw apprehensive glances over their shoulders, though none were willing to meet the intimidating woman eye-to-eye. Natalya paid her little audience no mind as she stalked up to Ginny and Neville with an air of cold, single-minded intent.</p><p>“Your comrade by the name of Lovegood,” she said, with no preamble at all. “Do you know where she is?”</p><p>“Our—what?” Neville threw a bewildered glance at Ginny, who didn’t return his gaze, but rather raised an eyebrow at the hostile woman in front of them.</p><p>“Do you know where she is?” Natalya repeated impatiently.</p><p>“Er, no, we haven’t seen her since yesterday, but why—”</p><p>Natalya didn’t bother to answer; she turned around briskly and stalked off again.</p><p>“Hey, wait—what do you know about Luna? What happened to her?!”</p><p>The two tried running after Natalya, but her steps were too quick and her swishing cloak soon disappeared around a corner. By the time Ginny and Neville reached it, a crowd of fifth-years suddenly swarmed out of Herbology and blocked their path. Ginny and Neville could only crane their necks wildly as they pushed through the crowd, trying with no avail to spot the petite woman among a sea of black cloaks, and in the brief glance they exchanged, they both asked the same question: <em>what the hell was that all about?</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Under Pressure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Did they really think there would be no consequences for this? Fools. Absolute fools.</p><p>Nimble feet stepped silently over every crevice, making sure to stay on tiptoes so that no heavy, clomping footsteps could echo down the corridor and give her position away. Cold, calculating eyes darted around every few seconds, but there was no sign of annoying Death Eaters patrolling this floor. Good.</p><p>It hadn’t been easy for Natalya to keep an eye on a girl who was neither in Hufflepuff nor in seventh-year, but the conversation she overheard in the Hog’s Head Inn had given her a deep, unshakable sense of foreboding which she simply could not ignore. She just had to wait for the inevitable trigger to be pulled.</p><p>It took over a week—then the magazines appeared across the school, a blatant show of resistance that promised nothing good for the girl who was already in danger from her father’s actions. The next day, and then the day after that, Natalya did not see the Lovegood girl in the Great Hall at all, and that was when she knew.</p><p>She paused briefly when the corridor split in two, carefully checking her surroundings and retracing in her mind the path she had taken. This seemed to be the correct way. Matthew had given her a description of where he had been kept during his own stint as a captive in the dungeons, so at least she had some vague directions based on what he remembered. She was fully intent on going alone, as always trusting nobody but herself to do things right.</p><p>Not that it really mattered in the end, she thought with an irritated twitch and a glance over her shoulder, where Matthew was following close behind her. Despite going to all the effort of ambushing Matthew in the middle of the night and interrogating him about the layout of the dungeons, the soft-spoken Canadian apparently still shared some traits with Alfred, as he was adamant about getting involved in something that he was certainly not invited to.</p><p>At least Matthew’s voice, unlike his brother’s, was not grating to the point where Natalya wanted to claw her ears out.</p><p>“Right side, I think,” Matthew said as they reached a fork, his own footsteps making hardly a sound or scrape against the rough stone floor. Without hesitation, Natalya stalked swiftly ahead down the right-hand path. If Matthew got left behind, that wasn’t her problem. He was the one who insisted on coming.</p><p>After a few more turns through the musty, winding corridors, she stopped again and tilted her head. No, she hadn’t imagined it: somebody was humming.</p><p>“That’s definitely Luna,” Matthew said, immediately spurring himself into a run, and Natalya blinked when her fellow nation suddenly bolted past her. She followed at a close pace behind him, never allowing herself to fall too far behind, but certainly not as frantic to reach their target as quickly as possible.</p><p>When Matthew skidded to a stop outside his old prison, the first thing he noticed was Luna’s impossibly huge, grey eyes, still holding their ever-present glimmer of curiosity as she stared at him from her position chained up against the wall. His breath hitched in relief. The entire time he and Natalya had been creeping through the dungeons, Matthew’s mind had been anxiously wondering what horrible state Luna would be in when they stumbled upon her at last: bruised, bleeding, Cruciated to the point of incoherence...</p><p>But from appearances alone, she seemed absolutely fine. Besides the shackles that immobilised her—there was no blood on the floor, no bruises or scars that he could see, and all at once it was like an enormous weight had been lifted off his shoulders.</p><p>“Hi, Mr Williams,” Luna said pleasantly, and her gaze drifted over to regard his unfamiliar companion with intrigue.</p><p>Matthew smiled back at her, but Natalya’s attention skipped immediately to the long iron chains that wrapped around the girl’s body and tethered her in place. She took out her wand, muttered “<em>Alamomora</em>!” and pointed it at the lock near Luna’s wrists. The lock jerked slightly but didn’t release.</p><p>“Professor Snape definitely would have thought of that,” Luna said.</p><p>The only reaction Natalya allowed was a terse twitch of the eye. Without wasting a second, she withdrew a tiny pocket knife from her robes and went to work the old-fashioned way instead, expertly digging and twisting the delicate blade into the keyhole; after a few hushed minutes, the lock popped open with a faint click. Luna flexed her wrists experimentally and was happy to find that they were free.</p><p>“Hurry up and get out,” Natalya said brusquely.</p><p>“For a diplomat, you’re not very diplomatic,” Luna commented in her usual airy tone as she tried to wriggle out of the chains that looped tightly around her body. Matthew hastily went over to help her, though untangling the mess proved to be a task; it took well over ten minutes before Luna was finally able to hop out of the pile of chains at her feet, stretch her arms and bounce a few times on the spot in relief.</p><p>“Snape’s the one who did this, then?” Matthew asked quietly.</p><p>“Yes, I was surprised the two Carrows weren’t involved,” Luna said. “They seemed the angriest about us distributing <em>The Quibbler</em> to everybody. But Professor Snape was the only one who brought me down here.”</p><p>“And you aren’t hurt?”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t think so.” Luna took a moment to inspect herself, as though she had forgotten to check.</p><p>“The headmaster wanted to control her father’s publishings,” Natalya said impassively. “Torturing the girl would be of no use if the father is not here to witness it.”</p><p>“But you’d think...” Matthew’s brow furrowed. “The headmaster is in league with those Death Eaters, isn’t he? Unnecessary torture is kind of their thing.”</p><p>“Perhaps he is simply not as stupid as the other two,” Natalya said, already turning away to leave. “Move,” she added flatly to her two companions. “This entire ordeal has been very annoying. I would like to return to the common room to spend the rest of my evening in peace.”</p><p>“Thank you for helping me, Miss Arlovskaya,” Luna said with a bright, sincere smile, and Natalya silently acknowledged her words with a nod.</p>
<hr/><p>“We’ve got a problem,” Terry announced as soon as he and Michael hurried into the Room of Requirement, with Heracles and Kiku trailing not far behind them. The grimness on their faces immediately grabbed the attention of everybody inside, and the conversation in the room died out at once.</p><p>Kiku shut the door carefully behind him, turned to face the students and gave them a polite bow. “I am afraid it is not encouraging news.”</p><p>“Kiku, you’re making it sound like someone’s got murdered,” Alfred said. Several appalled looks were thrown his way, and Elizabeta cuffed Alfred upside the head, hissing an admonishment in his ear about tact.</p><p>Michael cleared his throat. “Right—first off, I just want to say we’re all glad to see you back, Lovegood,” he began, glancing over at Luna, who was sitting cross-legged by the fireplace with a half-finished feather bracelet in her lap. She gave him an appreciative smile, her fingers continuing to weave blue speckled Jobberknoll feathers together, and Michael offered an awkward half-smile in return.</p><p>“As you can guess though, the Carrows aren’t so thrilled,” Terry continued. “Apparently... well, you lot can tell the story,” he said, gesturing to Kiku and Heracles. The former bowed in gratitude.</p><p>“We believe that some first-years have been imprisoned in a dungeon below the castle,” he told the room calmly. Several people made sudden noises of outrage, though, as ever, Kiku’s expression showed no trace of emotion despite the horrific words that had just left his mouth. “Laurinaitis-san overheard Alecto Carrow speaking about it. She claimed it was in retaliation for that young woman’s escape.”</p><p>“Could you tone down the panic, mate?” Seamus called out sarcastically.</p><p>“Damn it,” Ginny muttered. “We should’ve seen this coming.”</p><p>“I can’t believe they’d target first-years!” Lavender said, her eyes wide with horror.</p><p>“I can,” Michael said darkly.</p><p>“Did Laurinaitis and Łukasiewicz ever say where they were hearing all of this?” Ernie said, frowning. “They can’t have found a way to spy on the Carrows, surely—it’s hard enough for us to sneak out of our common rooms every week without getting caught.”</p><p>“Who cares, Ernie?” Seamus said. “Worked like a charm for us last time, didn’t it? They told us where the Carrows chucked all those magazines, and sure enough, they were right where they said!”</p><p>Ginny nodded. “What we’ve got to figure out now,” she said decisively, “is how we’re going to break those first-years out.”</p><p>“How—what?” Ernie looked at her in alarm. “You’re not thinking of sneaking into the dungeons, are you?”</p><p>“Damn right that’s what we’re gonna do!” Alfred shouted, leaping up, and he clapped Elizabeta on the shoulder. “We’ll take care of it! You and me, Elizabeta, let’s go!”</p><p>“Of course,” she replied immediately, getting to her feet as well; she, too, had fury blazing in her eyes at the thought of some poor eleven-year-olds huddled in a cold, squalid prison cell, frightened and starving and, worst of all, thinking they might have done something wrong to deserve this.</p><p>Many of the students stared at the two nations, completely caught off-guard. “You’re going right now?” Neville asked in disbelief.</p><p>“Duh!” Alfred said. “What, you think we’re gonna wait ‘til breakfast tomorrow, take our sweet time having a bowl of cereal while kids are trapped in a freakin’ dungeon? We’re not gonna leave them down there overnight!”</p><p>“Do you even know how to get there?” Terry asked, boggling at them.</p><p>Alfred shrugged nonchalantly. “We’ll figure it out! Unless one of y’all have a tip for us, we’ll gladly take it!”</p><p>Nobody seemed to know quite how to respond, not knowing or even imagining how they were going to pull off such a heist without any planning. Momentary silence fell—then, to everybody’s surprise, Hannah spoke up: “I—I think the entrance might be near our common room. Mr Williams told us about it once... I can show you.”</p><p>“Cool!” Alfred beamed. “Let’s do it tonight! After this meeting, we’ll come down with you!”</p><p>Neither Alfred nor Elizabeta had been anywhere near the Hufflepuff basement yet. Unlike the hallway that led to Gryffindor Tower, which was grandiose in its décor, lit by candlelight that made shadows dance around them on burnished brick walls, Hannah led them down into a wide, spacious corridor steeped in ivory and honey gold, a place which felt as light as day even though it must have been hours past dinnertime. Shrubs of seafoam green leaves bloomed from the cracks of the wood-panelled floor, and several planters hung from the ceiling, their edges spilling over with twisting, tangled vines that reached low enough to brush the tops of passerby’s heads. As Alfred, Elizabeta, and Hannah passed the innocuous stack of barrels that hid the entrance to the common room, Alfred took a moment to whine about not being able to pop in and visit his brother, and as usual, it was Elizabeta who dragged him by the ear to get him back on track.</p><p>“I know what you’re like, Jones, once you start chitchatting, you never shut up,” she said sternly over his protests, while Hannah looked on in bemusement. “Be quiet before somebody hears you.”</p><p>They trekked a bit further past the Hufflepuff basement until, at last, Hannah stopped outside the entrance to a darker, much smaller side corridor that split off from the main hallway. “Professor Sprout always told us this place is off-limits,” she said nervously. “She said it was dangerous... but when Mr Williams came back from being kidnapped, he said he came through here.”</p><p>She glanced down into the corridor’s depths, chewing her bottom lip.</p><p>“Could you be a dear and stay here as a lookout?” Elizabeta said, sensing that the girl was a bit nervous about going any further.</p><p>“I-I can come with you!” Hannah said hastily.</p><p>“Hey, don’t worry about it!” Alfred clapped a reassuring hand around her shoulders. “We’ll take care of the rest from here, you just send us a little birdie if any of those bad guys come down here looking for us!”</p><p>Hannah hesitated, and Elizabeta added with a gentle smile, “Please, we don’t want you doing anything that makes you uncomfortable. Alfred and I will be fine. Thank you for your help.”</p><p>The brazen American had already set off before Hannah could quibble any more, and with a brief, apologetic curtsy, Elizabeta quickly followed her fellow nation into the unknown.</p><p>Stillness pressed down around them as they travelled deeper and deeper through the musty, winding corridor. Every breath came out in a thick puff in the prickling cold. The air tasted stale, the stone felt rugged and slippery beneath their feet, and Elizabeta was beginning to think that the brick ceiling that arched uncomfortably low over their heads looked alarmingly prone to collapse.</p><p>“How far do you think they’ll be?” Alfred asked, his voice reverberating through the space as if he had spoken through a megaphone.</p><p>“The castle is quite large, I wouldn’t be surprised if these dungeons are a maze as well,” Elizabeta said, frowning. She absentmindedly rubbed her hands together in an effort to warm them up. “It may take us a while to find them.”</p><p>“Guess we gotta get moving then!” Alfred grabbed Elizabeta by the arm and pulled her into a jog, ignoring the sudden admonishing shouts in his ear. “Let’s goooo!”</p><p>But the further they went, on and on into what felt like the heart of the earth, all they saw were more impenetrable walls and occasionally an empty cellar. Elizabeta did drag Alfred to a halt every now and again, poised perfectly still to listen for any cries or voices or any signs of life, but... nothing. And so they continued to wander quite aimlessly; meanwhile, Elizabeta at least had the foresight to etch a mark into the wall every few minutes, so that they wouldn’t get lost on the way back out.</p><p>“Wait—I think this might be something.”</p><p>Like a clearing in the midst of a forest, there seemed to be something glowing faintly just ahead of them. It turned out to be torchlight; a dozen flickering torches hung on the walls around the perimeter of a huge, cavernous room, which had three heavy wooden doors leading in separate directions even deeper into the dungeons. The room was empty, and yet again, Alfred and Elizabeta found themselves puzzled by the distinct lack of life in this place, especially after being reassured that there was a group of children who surely would have been making some sort of noise to guide them.</p><p>“Something’s wrong, Alfred,” Elizabeta said, finally voicing the thought that had been burning slow and suspicious in the back of her mind. “I really think... there’s nobody here.”</p><p>“Surprised, ya little rats?”</p><p>As soon as they whirled around, Alfred let out a short yelp, and the next moment he was thrown violently into the opposite wall. There was a horrible, muffled crunch, and Elizabeta saw blood where the back of his head had smashed into the cold, hard stone. From one of the wooden doors emerged the sloping figures of both Carrows, each with a wand pointed triumphantly at Elizabeta. With a clang, an iron grille suddenly dropped down behind her, sealing the tunnel that was their only escape route.</p><p>“Knew there was somebody listenin’ in on our chats,” Alecto said rather jauntily, taking her sweet time with each approaching footstep, like a predator that knew it had cornered its prey. “There was nobody who could've known about those magazines, we made sure to never talk about it when there were brats around... and then that nutter’s daughter—” she crowed with laughter “—not bad, I’ll give you that. Never would've expected a big damn rescue mission so fast.”</p><p>Elizabeta’s heart sank. Luna’s release wasn’t the D.A.’s doing, but the magazine heist...</p><p>“So that’s when we got to wonderin’,” Alecto continued, her bulging eyes bright with amusement, “who was it that’s been snooping in on conversations they shouldn’t?”</p><p>“Don’t take much to fool these heroes, huh,” Amycus snickered. “Just feed ‘em a bunch of lines about innocent kids being chained up, wait for ‘em to show up, and whaddya know—they walked right into it.”</p><p>Across the room, Alfred shakily tried to get back up. His vision was slightly unfocused behind his glasses, and a short bark of laughter slipped from his lips which made him sound rather like a madman.</p><p>“Your loss,” he said, and underneath the challenging grin that split his face, vengefulness brewed like a volcano about to erupt. “Now I don’t have to worry about any innocents around when I beat you two assholes to a pulp.”</p><p>“Ooh, look who’s talkin’ tough,” Alecto sang mockingly. “I have a good idea of what I’ll do to that gibbering little mouth of yours—”</p><p>But what exactly that was, they never found out: Elizabeta had whipped out her wand mid-sentence and blasted both Carrows right off their feet.</p><p>Alecto’s screech of rage filled the entire dungeon as she clambered back up. “You’ll pay for that, scum! <em>CRUCIO</em>!”</p><p>Elizabeta screamed; pain like a thousand white-hot knives tore through every nerve in her body, and she barely felt herself hitting the ground, her wand skittering out of her hand as she thrashed around like a possessed woman. Her nails dug so hard into the stone beneath her that they began to split—her eyes burned but she would not cry—she would <em>not</em>—</p><p>Suddenly there was a heavy thud and a yell of fury: Alfred had hurled himself across the room, wrestled Alecto’s wand out of her hand and flung it into a corner. Elizabeta gritted her teeth, crawled hastily towards her wand and reached out to grab it.</p><p>Amycus roared and a deafening bang rang out, and abruptly Alfred was sent flying through the air once more. Something in his body cracked when he landed, and then a second later a deep gash sliced across his shoulder, spattering the floor with scarlet. Amycus raised his wand for another attack, but all of a sudden a jet of red light soared dangerously close to his head and he spun around, eyes flashing, and threw his curse at Elizabeta instead. She rolled out of the way as the wall behind her exploded, raining bits of dust and stone onto her. Amycus sent another series of spells in her direction, which blew up clouds of dust in her wake as she tried to shake off the searing pain that still lingered in every muscle. His frenzied shouts were drowned underneath the noise of his missed counter-curses blasting uselessly into brick, and then amid the chaos, there was a patter of footsteps—Elizabeta glanced over just in time to see Alecto scooping up her own wand and aiming—</p><p>The last thing she saw was Alfred throwing himself towards Alecto again like the reckless idiot he was, and her warning shout rose halfway to her lips—then the world flashed green, something hit her like an ironclad punch just above the heart, and she was gone.</p>
<hr/><p>Waking up felt like floating from the depths of an icy, bottomless lake. Her lungs were heavy with exhaustion, as though they would collapse inside her if she tried to take too deep a breath, and her mind could not summon anything except an incoherent, swimming fuzziness. There was light somewhere beyond her closed eyelids, but she couldn’t muster the strength to flutter them open... it was just too easy to sink back into sleep...</p><p>
  <em>“You’ll pay for that, scum!”</em>
</p><p>The memory of Alecto’s scream suddenly pierced her addled thoughts. Elizabeta’s whole body gave a jolting, involuntary twitch as she wrenched herself back to consciousness; in an instant, she became aware of her heart pounding strong and faithfully steady in her chest, and the aching bruise on her ribs where the Killing Curse had struck.</p><p>Gradually, she realised she was lying flat on her back on some smooth, cold surface. Wherever she was, it seemed she wasn’t alone: there were voices coming from somewhere far away, muffled through a wall, but unmistakably getting louder, as though the speakers were approaching the room she was lying in.</p><p>“... threw them in Thicknesse’s old office, since nobody's using it now. Just needed a place to keep them until we sort this mess out.”</p><p>A door banged open somewhere to her right, and she heard footsteps entering, but she didn't dare open her eyes just yet.</p><p>“So they <em>killed</em> 'em?”</p><p>“On accident, they're saying—little scuffle gone wrong, their tempers got the best of them—”</p><p>“Oh, for the love of...” Exasperation was palpable in the stranger's voice. “Don't they know we've got enough to do without cleaning after their stupid muck-ups? Did Snape have something to do with this too?”</p><p>“He didn't.” A third voice now joined the conversation. “He was just as annoyed as Yaxley over here.”</p><p>“Ah, Rookwood. You got my message.”</p><p>“Are these the representatives then?” Rookwood asked. “They don't look like much.”</p><p>Someone shuffled forward, and Elizabeta discreetly clenched her teeth when a shoe kicked her in the side.</p><p>“Alecto said these two have been a right pain since the beginning. Been causing her and Amycus trouble for months.”</p><p>“So they come here and dump them on us? Useless idiots.” Rookwood scoffed, unimpressed. “You going to sort this out, Yaxley?”</p><p>“What the hell do you think? With all the shit I’ve got to do, you think I’ve got time to dawdle around International Magical Cooperation all day?”</p><p>“Don’t pretend you’re so important. Can’t even catch a bunch of teenagers, you've got a lot to make up for after letting Potter and his friends get away—”</p><p>“You shut it!” Yaxley snarled, and now there was a subtle tremor of fear shaking his formerly confident tone. “The Dark Lord doesn't need to know—”</p><p>“Oh, the Dark Lord will find out, mark my words. Potter sneaking into the Ministry itself, that's not something you can hide.”</p><p>“Rubbish trade that is, having Potter escape and getting these two nobodies instead. Who’s even going to care if we just get rid of ‘em?”</p><p>“The Dark Lord’s going to care if those foreigners get offended and start sending reinforcements! We already know Dumbledore was trying to recruit people from out of the country before he snuffed it. This lot must be important enough if the Department of Magical Education let them into Hogwarts.”</p><p>“Hmph. So what do we do?”</p><p>“Tell Vern Cerbus to start drafting a letter, we’ll need to come up with a cover...”</p><p>The footsteps seemed to be leaving now. The door slammed again, and abruptly the three men’s voices were muffled again, fading further and further away until Elizabeta thought, at last, it was safe to open her eyes.</p><p>Alfred was sprawled on the ground next to her, unconscious, his hair matted with blood from the lump on his head. They were alone in the room. The Death Eaters had brought them to an office, it seemed, one that was much different from the teachers’ offices she saw at Hogwarts; the walls were painted a bright, soulless white, with posters and memos plastered in tidy rows above a burnished wood desk. Huge, polished filing cabinets lined the far wall, each of their drawers shut, locked, and labelled meticulously with letters of the alphabet. The complete lack of windows made the small square room feel rather like a prison cell. Just barely visible above their heads, if she craned her neck enough, she could see a tiny bronze nameplate sitting neatly at the edge of the desk, and on it were words etched handsomely in gleaming gold:</p><p><em>Pius Thicknesse</em><br/>
<em>Department of Magical Law Enforcement<br/>
</em> <em>Ministry of Magic</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>[bangs pots and pans together] I will lavishly describe the Hufflepuff basement at every opportunity because our House got robbed, change my mind</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Fight and Flight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Elizabeta wasn’t usually claustrophobic, but as the enormity of their situation began to weigh down on her, she couldn’t push away the awful, unsettling sensation of being trapped like a rat in a cage.</p><p>She heaved herself up into a sitting position, gritting her teeth as every muscle in her body screamed in protest. The world spun momentarily around her. The sudden hit of lightheadedness almost convinced her to lie back down again and sleep it off, but their enemies had foolishly chosen to leave them alone for a moment; this was their chance to escape without anybody noticing. She’d be damned if she was going to let it slip through her fingers.</p><p>“America!” Elizabeta whispered harshly, reaching over and shaking him as hard as she could. He didn’t respond. “America, wake up! A kurva életbe,” she swore under her breath, and her eyes flickered apprehensively to the door as though it would burst open again at any moment.</p><p>Still sluggish from exhaustion, she patted her robes and was dismayed to find her wand missing. She reached over to Alfred again, dug through his pockets, and eventually landed upon a thin, knobbly object which turned out to be his own wand. Good. At least they had one. She tapped the wand on Alfred’s head and then her own, praying that the charm would work even on somebody who was unconscious, and a faint sigh of relief passed her lips when both of them promptly camouflaged into their surroundings, just like they had practiced in the Room of Requirement.</p><p>Right. What now...?</p><p>Trying to concentrate was like dragging herself through a muddy bog; Elizabeta’s ears were ringing in the silence, her head felt like cotton, and the only thing she could think about was her warm four-poster bed all the way back in Gryffindor Tower. This wasn’t Gryffindor Tower though, that was the one thing she was certain of. But how on earth were they going to get back... or was it even wise to go back at all...?</p><p>She shook her head vigorously, and then immediately regretted it when the dizziness returned in full force. It took a few moments for the room to stop spinning again.</p><p>
  <em>Focus, Hungary. Think.</em>
</p><p>Could she Disapparate with Alfred in this state? She wasn’t even sure if she could Apparate herself, let alone carrying another person with her. Perhaps it was worth a try nonetheless...</p><p>Summoning as much strength as she could muster, Elizabeta clambered unsteadily to her feet, pulled one of Alfred’s arms up with her, and spun on the spot—then promptly swayed off-balance and fell on top of him.</p><p>Alfred jerked to life with a grunt. “Ungh—get off me, Tony...”</p><p>“Oi!” Elizabeta pushed herself up and gave the American a slap across the face. He twitched in annoyance, but still, he didn’t open his eyes.</p><p>Frustration rising in her like a rolling tide, Elizabeta grappled for the desk next to them and used it to steady herself as she stood clumsily back up. Her gaze darted to the door again. A few more minutes, that was all they needed for Alfred to get his bearings, and then they could get moving together. Abandoning him wasn’t an option; she would drag this boy out of the building with her own two hands if she had to.</p><p>Below her, Alfred stirred, and Elizabeta nudged him with her foot.</p><p>“Get up, America, we need to hurry.”</p><p>“Lemme sleep...”</p><p>She sighed. Leaving Alfred on the ground for the moment, Elizabeta tottered over to the door to get a closer look at it. It was rather nondescript, made of plain black wood and engraved with a simple square trim, and there was a tiny keyhole underneath the brass handle which looked no different from any of the Muggle locks she had seen in her time.</p><p>She jiggled the handle experimentally and was surprised to find that the door cracked open with no effort at all. Beyond it appeared to be a long, gloomy hallway, and Elizabeta just barely glimpsed the shadowy figures of Ministry workers hurrying back and forth before a low groan from behind her caught her attention.</p><p>At last, Alfred was struggling to sit up, his face contorted in a grimace as he slowly, painstakingly propped himself up on his elbows. He cast a bleary glance at the unfamiliar scene around him.</p><p>“Hungary...?” he mumbled.</p><p>“I’m here,” she said. “I put Disillusionment Charms on us both.”</p><p>“Why, what’s happening?”</p><p>“Those Carrows handed us off to some of their associates. I think we’re in the Ministry of Magic, they seem to want to cover up what they did. Come, we can escape from here, they didn’t lock us in—I suppose they thought it wasn’t a risk, since we’re meant to be dead. I have your wand, by the way, I think mine was left behind at the castle—”</p><p>Alfred could only register about half of her words. His head hurt like a bitch, and something in his arm throbbed horribly where Elizabeta had fallen on top of it. His robes were crusted with blood around the wound that Amycus gave him, and when Alfred flexed his shoulder, a sharp pain shot all the way down to his wrist, and a hiss slipped from his lips. This did not escape the notice of Elizabeta, who frowned.</p><p>“Are you all right?” she asked, taking a moment to hurry over and kneel down next to him.</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine,” Alfred said, forcing a grin onto his face. “Just a little scratch—thanks though, you’re a lot nicer than Artie. He would’ve told me just to suck it up...”</p><p>A short, balding Ministry employee stopped to stare as the door of Thicknesse’s office slowly creaked open on its own accord. He strode over, peered inside, but did not seem to notice the two invisible fugitives who had sidled out into the main hall, and who were now frozen against the wall just inches away, holding their breath. The balding wizard glanced around. Everyone else seemed to be too preoccupied with their own affairs: grim-faced workers in dark brown robes swept in and out of a huge, heavy door labelled “<em>Wizengamot Administration Services</em>”, many of them carrying massive stacks of parchment in their arms; occasionally a short, blaring alarm would go off, and one or two people would come running out from a side corridor that had “<em>Magical Law Enforcement Patrol</em>” emblazoned over the entrance, and others would step out of their way as they hurried past. Perhaps thinking it was only a faulty door hinge, the balding wizard shut the door again and went on his way, though he still threw a couple of suspicious glances over his shoulder as he walked off.</p><p>Alfred’s hand slackened slightly in Elizabeta's. She squeezed it, a wordless question asking if he could keep up, and he answered by giving her a cheerful punch on the shoulder. Elizabeta resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Although Alfred was still unsteady on his feet, it hadn’t taken very long at all for him to regain his usual boisterousness. The perks of being young...</p><p>Slowly, they shuffled along the wall in the same direction where most of the employees seemed to be headed, hoping that this would lead them to an exit of some sort. Their footsteps mingled with those of a dozen others, and every now and then they would have to duck under a passing swarm of flying memos, or hastily flatten themselves against the wall to avoid brushing up against somebody who was in a particular hurry.</p><p>“Oi—watch it!”</p><p>There was a sudden gasp, a tinkling crash, and the nations hastily skittered out of the way: someone had bumped into a woman who was levitating several large ink bottles, and a few of the bottles dropped to the ground, splattering ink precariously close to where Alfred and Elizabeta had been standing.</p><p>“Ah, sorry, Oleander—here, <em>Tergeo</em>—”</p><p>No sooner had the other woman waved her wand to siphon up the ink than Elizabeta yanked Alfred into a separate hallway and through the nearest door. Alfred made a tiny noise of surprise and confusion, but he didn’t dare speak until Elizabeta spoke first, after she glanced around and made sure the room was empty.</p><p>“It got on you,” she murmured by way of explanation, and Alfred glanced down at the hem of his robes: indeed, there was a large splatter of jet black around his ankles, seemingly hovering in midair against his disguise. Elizabeta took out Alfred's wand and waved it over the stain. “Let’s see... <em>Tergeo</em>? Ah, yes, there we go—”</p><p>The ink was sucked up into the wand as if through a straw, and Alfred once again looked to be invisible against his surroundings.</p><p>“Good catch!” he said, impressed.</p><p>Before Elizabeta could respond, the door creaked further open behind them and a dark-haired, bearded man stepped cautiously inside. Both nations froze. The man’s gaze swept slowly and suspiciously around the office, at one point lingering where Alfred stood as he shifted into a fighting stance.</p><p>“Don’t think I didn’t see you,” the man muttered, shutting the door with a firm snap behind him. “A couple of Potter’s accomplices, huh, come back to finish the job? Well, you won’t get away this time... <em>Homenum Revelio</em>!”</p><p>The man only had a moment to register the Disillusionment Charms melting away before an inhumanly strong arm locked around his neck from behind. His eyes widened, his fingers scrabbled against the chokehold as he gasped for air—and then, slowly, his face grew faintly purple and he went limp.</p><p>“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do that,” Elizabeta said in dismay, loosening her arm from around the man’s neck and letting him slump unconscious at her feet.</p><p>“Aw, c’mon, you totally stole my thunder!” Alfred said. “I was so ready to punch his lights out!”</p><p>“And attract even more attention, that’s exactly what we need,” Elizabeta said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “Come, we’ve got to hide him. The last thing we want is for someone to find an unconscious body lying around.”</p><p>“What, you don’t think it’ll add to the decor?” Alfred quipped, but he sauntered over, dragged the man across the floor like he was a sack of potatoes, and went to shove him out of sight underneath the massive desk in the middle of the room.</p><p>“While you do that, I’m going to check if anyone else noticed us,” Elizabeta said. She turned around, cracked the door back open a fraction and peered outside. The broken glass shards had been cleaned up, and the two women had already parted ways; the one with the ink bottles passed by the office, mere centimetres in front of Elizabeta’s face, her mouth pressed in a thin, haughty line as she jabbed her floating cargo forward with a bite more irritation than before. Commotion over, the rest of the crowd continued drifting past as though nothing had happened. It seemed that the bearded man was the only one to have noticed anything strange—or perhaps the only one daring enough to investigate.</p><p>“Right, I think we should be safe. Come, let’s go before—”</p><p>“Hungary. Look at this.” Alfred stood over the desk, staring down at a piece of parchment he’d picked up.</p><p>She turned around, an exasperated reprimand burning at the tip of her tongue because, honestly, this child was so easily distracted—but the sight of Alfred's livid expression stopped her in her tracks.</p><p>“They're cataloguing all the people they're hunting down,” he said quietly, throwing down a long list of names with the words “<em>Wanted: Unregistered Muggle-borns</em>” emblazoned at the top. “Look, they’ve got family trees and everything on file... ‘<em>Suspected fake, to be investigated</em>’...” Alfred rifled through the dozens of folders that were piled on the desk, his expression growing darker with each one he went through. “Are you kidding me? <em>Are you fucking kidding me</em>? Literally the only thing they did was being born a certain way—and now they're being treated like <em>criminals</em>!”</p><p>Elizabeta snatched the paper herself. She felt her blood begin to boil as her gaze scanned down the list and landed on a small note at the bottom: “Payment to be negotiated per individual. Please contact Corban Yaxley, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”</p><p>“I should have taken him down when I had the chance,” she muttered, remembering that Yaxley had been standing right over them mere minutes ago. He would have been completely unsuspecting if they’d decided to launch a surprise attack.</p><p>But the moment had already passed, neither of them had been in any state to fight three Death Eaters at once, and with a level of self-restraint that would have made Roderich proud, Elizabeta placed the paper back on the desk. “We need to go,” she said, even more sternly than before, but Alfred made no movement to leave. She narrowed her eyes when she saw the glint behind his glasses.</p><p>“If you think I’m just gonna leave that shit—” he began, his voice beginning to shake, but Elizabeta swiftly caught him by his collar and yanked him down so that they were eye-to-eye.</p><p>“America, there must be at least a hundred names on that list,” she said. “If you honestly think we’re going to go save them all—”</p><p>“Who said I was gonna do that?” Alfred’s face split into a wide, humourless grin. “Nah, this’ll be easier—these fuckers can’t hunt anybody down if they don’t know who they’re looking for.”</p><p>Five minutes later, the door to the main hall burst open, and dozens of Ministry wizards catapulted in the other direction, screaming, as flames suddenly roared through the open doorway. There was nothing left in the office but fire: huge, catastrophic wildfire that engulfed every single paper in Yaxley’s arsenal, swallowing every innocent name that would have been chased down and punished, and Alfred couldn’t help but let out a short, exhilarated laugh as the two nations fled the scene. Even Elizabeta had a manic grin on her face as they darted through the long hallway, staying as low to the ground as possible.</p><p>Their Disillusionment Charms were distorted slightly by the smoky air, but as Ministry employees sprinted down the corridor, pushing past each other in their rush to get away, nobody noticed the odd ripples of movement that couldn’t quite camouflage the two intruders against the dark brick wall. They passed one lanky wizard in navy blue robes running in the opposite direction, heading towards the fire that was now spilling into several adjacent rooms, and a high-pitched voice shouted behind them just as they reached the lifts: “Somebody call for backup from Magical Maintenance! Atkinson, Peakes, anybody!”</p><p>“Hey!” Alfred said suddenly. “We can escape through the elevator shaft! No one will see us!”</p><p>Elizabeta took only a split second to agree. When they reached the end of the hallway, they both grabbed onto one of the wrought golden grilles that blocked the lifts, and together, with an enormous strain that made their muscles scream, the two of them pulled. The metal bars between their fingers creaked and stretched under Alfred’s superhuman strength and Elizabeta’s brutal force of will—then suddenly, with a deafening bang, the grille popped right out of its solid brick frame and then clattered several feet down the corridor as they threw it aside.</p><p>Alfred doubled over, breathing hard from sheer effort, his arm bursting with pain and his fingers aching where the metal had dug into them, but Elizabeta wasted no time; she pulled him along as she slipped into the space between the wall and the lift, using her free hand to steady herself to keep from falling down the lift shaft. It was more spacious back there than she expected. She let go of Alfred momentarily to take out the wand in her pocket and whisper, “<em>Lumos</em>!”</p><p>Light immediately filled the shaft. Then Elizabeta swore: there was no cable.</p><p>In hindsight, it should have been obvious. The lifts in the wizarding world had no reason to be tethered by pulleys and wires when they could simply move up and down by the power of magic. But the two nations’ ever-persistent flaw, pointed out to them countless times in D.A. lessons, was the fact that they were too used to living among Muggles, and now their plan of sneaking down to the ground floor undetected was proving to be more complicated than expected. Both of them would have been eager to shimmy their way down a lift cable, especially with wild, pounding adrenaline spurring them on, but simply taking a leap of faith and falling who-knows-how-many stories down an empty shaft was something else entirely.</p><p>“Let’s jump!” Alfred said.</p><p>“We’re not fucking jumping!” Elizabeta snapped.</p><p>Alfred tried to push her. Indignantly, she pushed him right back out into the hallway. He stumbled a few steps, and his shoulder accidentally knocked against a man who had hurried out from a shabby, dimly lit side corridor into the smoke-filled main hall.</p><p>The man spun around. “Who’s there?!”</p><p>Swearing vehemently, Elizabeta snatched Alfred’s hand again and sprinted away from the stranger as fast as she could. A shout of “<em>Homenum Revelio</em>!” rang out behind them; her heart dropped into her stomach when she felt their Disillusionment Charms melting away, and instinctively she swerved as a spell came whistling past her head.</p><p>Then she was yanked roughly to the side, tossed like a ragdoll through an open door, and she hit the ground with a startled grunt. When Elizabeta glanced up, it took her a moment to register that Alfred had pulled them into a small, empty office. He slammed the door shut behind them and immediately began piling tables and chairs in front of it. <em>BANG</em>—the door rattled as though someone were firing a gun into it. <em>BANG</em>—<em>BANG</em>—</p><p>As soon as she scrambled back to her feet, Elizabeta hurried over to a massive oak filing cabinet against the far wall, and with a determined heave, she started shoving it towards Alfred with her entire body weight. He rushed over to help when he exhausted his supply of tables; within seconds, the combined efforts of both nations managed to push the heavy cabinet right up against their makeshift barricade.</p><p>They paused and exchanged a wordless glance, both wild-eyed and panting, and then—<em>BANG</em>—their attention snapped to the door as it trembled again, more violently than ever.</p><p>Elizabeta felt a leaping thrill of excitement. She quickly withdrew Alfred’s wand and pointed it towards the shaking, splintering wood, wondering if all the furniture stacked in front of it would be enough, if they could hold off their pursuer just long enough—</p><p>Abruptly the room seemed to explode, tables and chairs and huge chunks of wood blasting every which way, and Elizabeta instantly dove into a corner to protect herself from getting slammed with flying debris. A broken piece of oak hurtled past her face; she couldn’t see where Alfred went, but the only exit to the room was wide open now, and without thinking she flung herself towards her only bid for freedom—</p><p>But the man had already bolted inside, swept his arm in a quick, forceful motion, and Elizabeta suddenly felt every muscle in her body freeze against her will. A screech filled the dust-choked office as he flicked his wand again and dragged what remained of the filing cabinet in front of the broken door, blocking any chance of them slipping out, and Elizabeta could just barely pinpoint the faint shape of Alfred across the room, snarling loudly but riveted to the spot just like she was.</p><p>“Who are you?” the stranger asked in a loud, harsh tone, looking from Alfred to Elizabeta with clear distrust in the lines of his face. Dust clung to his bright red hair, and he stared down at them from behind a pair of slightly smudged, wiry glasses. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but Elizabeta had no time to dwell on that thought.</p><p>“Justice, that’s who I am!” Alfred yelled, his voice straining with the effort of trying to break free, though the Freezing Charm kept him uselessly, frustratingly immobile. “Yeah, it was us! Go ahead and kill us then, it’s already too late! You’re not gonna lay a finger on those innocent people!”</p><p>The man narrowed his eyes. Confusion flickered across his face as soon as he heard the American’s accent. “What are you talking about?”</p><p>“All those lists of yours, the ‘wanted Muggle-borns’ and all that crap, they’re gone! You don’t have your stupid files and family trees anymore! You won’t be able to hurt any more Muggle-borns ever again, the hero’ll make sure of that!”</p><p>Halfway across the room, Elizabeta was silently imploring Alfred to shut up. They were already in a bind, and shouting taunts at someone who may very well want to murder them—again—was not going to help their case.</p><p>To her utter bewilderment, however, Alfred’s words actually seemed to cause a shift in the stranger’s demeanor. He didn’t relax, but his brow furrowed as he glanced between them again, more carefully this time as though trying to make sense of something.</p><p>“You were the ones who set Yaxley’s office on fire?” he asked.</p><p>“Hell yeah!” Alfred said, scowling up at the man as though daring him to retaliate.</p><p>“I’m going to ask you again,” the man said sternly. “Who are you?”</p><p>“We’re the reps from Hog—”</p><p>“OI!” Elizabeta cut Alfred off with a roar. Honestly, that huge, impulsive mouth of his—! The Death Eaters who knew that they came from Hogwarts thought they’d been killed; how would they react if they found out about the nations’ mysterious inability to die?</p><p>The man gave a start when he seemed to notice their uniforms for the first time, and he gave Alfred another peculiar look. “Don’t tell me... you’re those international representatives I’ve been hearing so much about?”</p><p>Elizabeta hesitated. “Yes,” she said tersely. Their cover was broken now anyway. But that was all she needed to say; realisation suddenly dawned on the man’s face.</p><p>“What are your names?” he asked, more deliberately now.</p><p>Elizabeta considered not answering. She considered snapping back that it was none of his business, because that was the number one rule in war: never give the enemy information until they try to bleed it out of you.</p><p>But they were in the heart of the Ministry; even if they refused to tell this man their identities now, it would be easy enough for him to find out. Besides... Elizabeta was convinced she hadn’t imagined it: the man’s tone had shifted. What he knew about them already, she couldn’t even begin to guess, but he was no longer looking at them with the same suspicion as before, nor was he speaking to them as if he were interrogating a pair of criminals... she supposed she could take that as a good sign.</p><p>And she was wrong... well, they had both gotten into worse fiascos in their lifetimes.</p><p>“Elizabeta Héderváry,” she answered cautiously. “The one over there is Alfred Jones.”</p><p>And with that, the atmosphere in the room changed completely: the tension seemed to break and the stranger’s eyes widened, all hostilities forgotten as the breath seemed to leave his body. When at last he seemed to find his voice again, he said in a flat, disbelieving tone: “You’re the ones Ginny’s been writing about.”</p><p>“Ginny?” Alfred echoed. “Like... <em>our</em> Ginny?”</p><p>All of a sudden Elizabeta realised who this man reminded her of.</p><p>“Mr Weasley?” she said incredulously.</p><p>“What the hell’s going on?” Alfred demanded, bewildered. “How do you know Ginny?”</p><p>The man paused. “Ginny Weasley is my daughter,” he said finally.</p><p>“She’s—<em>what</em>?”</p><p>Alfred definitely would have fallen off a chair if he’d been sitting in one instead of stuck on the ground, immobilised. As it were, he simply stared at the man, gaping in shock. Elizabeta, too, was at a loss for words. Ginny had mentioned once before that her father worked at the Ministry, but that must have been weeks ago, and with everything else that had been going on, Elizabeta had to admit she’d simply forgotten.</p><p>Surely this was the best thing that could have happened though. Ginny’s father was the closest thing to an ally they had in this place, and if he could guide them out of here...</p><p>“I’m sorry we had to meet in this context, Mr Weasley,” Elizabeta said finally, her tone becoming polite and businesslike. “I wish we could talk longer, but we don’t have much time to waste. We need to get back to Hogwarts. Would you be able to help us?”</p><p>Mr Weasley’s brow furrowed. “I need to ask, what are you doing here in the first place?” he said. “I doubt this is a business trip if you’re sneaking around and committing arson in a foreign office.”</p><p>“Those two Death Eaters at the school, the Carrows, they tried to murder us,” Elizabeta said without hesitation. Anything less than the cold, hard truth would only make them seem more suspicious, and they needed Mr Weasley to believe them. Mr Weasley looked as though a winter chill had gone right through him, but she continued, looking him straight in the eye: “Obviously they didn’t succeed, but it was a chaotic fight, there were so many curses being thrown around—it seems we were both knocked unconscious and they were spooked. So they brought us here to try and cover it up.”</p><p>It took Mr Weasley a moment before he could speak again. “And the fire?” he asked.</p><p>“We stumbled upon Yaxley’s files on the wanted Muggle-borns by accident. Then this idiot—”</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>“—decided to destroy them by setting fire to the entire office, as though that wouldn't draw massive amounts of attention to ourselves,” Elizabeta finished, ignoring Alfred's pouting.</p><p>“You helped!” he said childishly. “You were probably having even more fun than I was!”</p><p>Mr Weasley looked as though he had the biggest headache in the world while he tried to process the situation in front of him.</p><p>“Surely, returning to Hogwarts would be the last thing you’d want to do right now,” he said at last, giving both nations a troubled look. “If you say those—those Carrows were trying to murder you—”</p><p>“Your daughter’s still there, dude!” Alfred said indignantly. “And not just her, all the other kids too! We’re not just gonna leave them to fend for themselves!”</p><p>“We only need directions on how to get out of the Ministry,” Elizabeta said. “The rest we can figure out on our own, obviously we don’t want to put you in danger either—”</p><p>But Mr Weasley shook his head.</p><p>“I'm going to choose to believe you two. But if I help you, you must promise me that you’ll go into hiding once you get out of the Ministry,” he said sternly. “From the sounds of it, you’ve made a deadly enemy at Hogwarts. By going back, you have to realise you’ll put Ginny in danger too, just by association.”</p><p>Alfred glared back at him, his mouth set in a mulish line, but Elizabeta nodded after a moment’s consideration. “All right,” she said, ignoring Alfred’s sudden, incredulous protests. “I’ll handle him, don’t worry,” she added when she caught Mr Weasley glancing dubiously in the American’s direction.</p><p>Mr Weasley hesitated, and then he waved his wand, and Alfred and Elizabeta felt the Freezing Charm lift from their bodies.</p><p>“Right, put those Disillusionment Charms back on and follow me,” he said.</p><p>Out in the main hall, the chaos had finally died down.</p><p>“Weasley.”</p><p>Elizabeta suddenly tensed up; there, walking towards them, was none other than the bearded man they had knocked out back in Yaxley’s office. Everything from his robes to his hair were charred from head to toe, and when their paths crossed, he stopped to eye Mr Weasley with distrust.</p><p>“Selwyn,” Mr Weasley said, lifting his chin. “Got caught in the fire, I see?”</p><p>“Yes, I was unlucky enough to be near the scene when it started,” Selwyn said. His eyes flickered in Elizabeta’s direction, where she stood stock still, praying that he couldn’t hear her heart pounding in her chest. “You haven’t happened to see any... suspicious characters around, have you?”</p><p>“Suspicious characters?” Mr Weasley echoed, in a would-be casual tone. “I haven’t, in fact. Not at all.”</p><p>Selwyn stared intently at him. “Shame. I was hoping we’d find the culprits before they have a chance to escape.”</p><p>Alfred and Elizabeta quickly sidestepped out of the way as Selwyn continued walking past them towards the lifts.</p><p>“Are you coming, Weasley?” Selwyn added, glancing back over his shoulder.</p><p>“What? Ah, no—I need to go check on the damage,” Mr Weasley said. “For the paperwork, you see...”</p><p>He waited until the other man was out of earshot, and then murmured to Alfred and Elizabeta: “We’ll have to take the stairs. They should have emptied out by now...”</p><p>As it turned out, it was quite lucky that they had found Mr Weasley. The nations probably would have taken an inordinately long time to find the stairwell on their own: it was tucked at the very end of a side corridor that led off the main hall, hidden behind yet another ordinary wooden door, with nothing to indicate that there was another escape route they could have taken.</p><p>Most of the workers that had stormed the stairs during the panic had disappeared by now, having taken shelter on other floors, or otherwise gone to call for a clean-up crew. Mr Weasley and his two fugitives slipped into stairwell quite unseen, and with brisk, careful footsteps that made only the faintest tip-tapping noise against the stone steps, they hurried down the spiralling stairs to the ground floor.</p><p>“Do you have a safe place to go?” Mr Weasley asked in a low voice.</p><p>“Er...” Elizabeta glanced at Alfred, who was bound to know this country better than she did, but he could only shrug in response. “Nowhere specific,” she said. “I’m from Hungary and he’s from America, you see. We thought we’d be staying at Hogwarts for our entire visit...”</p><p>Mr Weasley frowned, but didn’t respond.</p><p>Emerging into the Atrium of the Ministry felt like emerging into an austere, lamp-lit era of centuries past: the domed ceiling arched high and imposing above their heads like the nave of a gothic cathedral, dancing with glittering gold symbols that threw tiny winks of light onto the walls; witches and wizards bustled in every direction in a mass of dark cloaks, some carrying newspapers, still others with stacks of yellowing parchment; and towering like a sentinel in the centre of the room was the enormous statue that Elizabeta remembered from the first time they visited, still displaying the glorious domination of wizards over Muggles, with immaculately carved words on its polished stone base: <em>MAGIC IS MIGHT</em>. Both Elizabeta and Alfred cast the statue a disgusted look as they passed it.</p><p>“Now,” Mr Weasley was whispering urgently to them; he couldn’t quite tell where they were, so his words were directed slightly off to Elizabeta’s right, “you see those fireplaces over there? Just climb into one of them—make sure nobody’s looking, of course—you’ll come out the other side in London—”</p><p>“Weasley!”</p><p>An awfully familiar voice rang out behind them. Mr Weasley whirled around to see Selwyn and the man that must have been Rookwood striding up to them, a triumphant look on his face that suddenly flooded Elizabeta’s stomach with dread.</p><p>“A word, if you’d please?” Selwyn said.</p><p>Mr Weasley straightened his shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Must we do it out here? Give me five minutes, I’ll meet you up on Level—”</p><p>There was a sudden bang and several people around them jumped in shock: Selwyn had suddenly withdrawn his wand, and thick, black ropes sprung out of nowhere and wrapped themselves around Mr Weasley’s entire body, causing him to topple helplessly to the ground.</p><p>“Leave him alone, you assholes!”</p><p>The startled Ministry workers barely had time to react to the shout that seemingly came from nowhere, before Alfred punched Selwyn hard in the face and sent him flying. Alfred whirled around and briefly tried to wrench the ropes off Mr Weasley, only for Elizabeta to tackle them both to the ground as a couple of Stunners soared just above their heads.</p><p>Alfred clambered to his feet and hauled Mr Weasley over his uninjured shoulder, ignoring Elizabeta’s snappy reprimand about breaking their cover, and without wasting a second, the two nations bolted for the fireplaces.</p><p>“Someone’s invisible there!” Rookwood snarled. “<em>Homenum Revelio</em>!”</p><p>They felt their disguises melt away once more. A shout rang out and Elizabeta twisted around just in time to deflect a jet of light that had been aimed at her back. There was a patter of feet, then several more spells rained down on them: a nearby wizard had broken from the crowd, flinging hexes as he ran towards them, and behind him three more people raised their wands.</p><p>“<em>Invito asztal</em>!” Elizabeta yelled, and the wizard was knocked off his feet by the massive desk that suddenly hurtled across the room; its drawers flew open and with a clatter they spilled an assortment of gold and brass instruments to the floor. There was a small explosion as three spells hit the desk at the same time, and Elizabeta ducked behind a pair of Ministry witches, who hastily shielded their heads from wooden debris.</p><p>“<em>Protego</em>!”</p><p>The shimmering protective dome erupted behind Elizabeta as she sprinted off again, holding up just long enough to save her from a barrage of Stunning Spells before it shattered.</p><p>“Hurry the fuck up!” she shouted at Alfred, who was running a little ways behind her with his teeth gritted in determination, Mr Weasley bouncing on his shoulder. Elizabeta grabbed a heavy wooden leg which had splintered off the desk and swung it, clobbering two more advancing Ministry workers over the head. She didn’t bother to watch them fall before taking off again, all the while using her makeshift club to smash her way through the crowd, aiming for faces and heads with terrifying accuracy.</p><p>Alfred was plowing roughly through anybody who tried to block their way; adrenaline screamed through his veins, mingling with the sharp shocks of pain that jolted through him with every step. More than once he used his entire, massive body weight to knock people to the ground, ignoring their cries of surprise and the heavy thuds when they hit the floor. Rookwood yelled out orders from behind them, his voice half-drowned amid the missed spells that pelted around them like gunfire.</p><p>Elizabeta swore loudly and crashed face-first to the floor as a spell caught her on the heel. The wand was knocked out of her hand and skittered across the polished black marble. Alfred scooped it up, aimed over his shoulder and shouted, “<em>Fumos</em>!”</p><p>The Atrium exploded in smoke. For a few seconds, there was an eerie lull as the attacks stilled and the crowd broke into abrupt, hacking coughs; even Rookwood could only wheeze out half a command before he, too, choked on the smokescreen that now filled half the room. Unseen by any of their foes, two figures darted through the haze, their movements brisk and disciplined from centuries of training and too many front line battles to count. Alfred saw the tail of Elizabeta’s robes just swishing out of sight into the fireplace. He dove after her and was instantly whisked away among deafening roars of flame.</p><p>The next moment, they seemed to erupt out of something cramped and cold, and all three of them crashed in a tangled heap of flailing limbs; it took the two nations a second to realise that they had been ejected out of a toilet inside a grungy bathroom cubicle.</p><p>Elizabeta clambered to her knees and began frantically tugging at the ropes that bound the squirming Mr Weasley. He seemed to want to say something, but a large piece of rope was wrapped around his mouth, gagging him, and all that came out was an incoherent muffled noise.</p><p>“Alfred, we need to figure out where to go,” Elizabeta said, her voice deceptively steady even though she was trying to rip apart the ropes with all the strength she possessed.</p><p>Before Alfred could respond, however, the toilet seemed to explode again in a shower of water, and two Ministry workers erupted into sight behind them. Instinctively, Elizabeta threw herself over Mr Weasley; she grunted as two Stunning Spells hit her straight on, and Mr Weasley gave a soft <em>oomph</em> as she fell on top of him. But no sooner did the workers turn on Alfred than—<em>THUD</em>—the American grabbed both of them by the hair and smashed their heads into the wall.</p><p>Ignoring the slumped workers and Mr Weasley’s increasingly louder mumbles, Alfred burst out of the cubicle, much to the shock of the three people who happened to be milling about the bathroom. Whether these were Ministry people, he didn’t know and he didn’t care. They backed away quickly as Alfred ran to one of the sinks and, with his good arm, wrenched off the metal faucet, and smashed it into the mirror amid a peal of shrieking.</p><p>There was another burst of water from the toilet. Alfred spun around and hurled the broken faucet at the newcomer; it bounced off the wizard’s head with a painful <em>thunk</em> and the wizard tumbled to the floor. Without wasting a second, Alfred scooped up a jagged piece of mirror, dropped to his knees next to Mr Weasley and began hacking away at the ropes.</p><p>“Don’t worry—they won’t—get you—if I can help it,” Alfred said, grunting with effort between his words. No sooner had he cut Mr Weasley loose than more Ministry workers catapulted into each of the cubicles next to them—</p><p>That was when Mr Weasley shook off the rest of the ropes, grabbed both Alfred and Elizabeta by the arm, and then abruptly the world spun into nothingness with a loud <em>pop</em>.</p>
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